The Warlock of Slytherin
by Romantic Silence
Summary: After his mother died, his father abandoned him with his relatives. Harry grew up emulating his uncle, a shrewd businessman. With his best friend and neighbor, Hermione, by his side, he has big plans to be at the top! However, his plans get derailed when it's revealed that not only is he a wizard, but his father is one too and that his twin brother is the famous Boy Who Lived!
1. Harry James Black

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: I know, I know. I already have two ongoing stories. However, as a writer, I can't help it. I read so many stories where Harry has a twin that becomes the Boy Who Lived and so I thought I could write something like that. This is a lot different from my other works as I finally get a chance to delve into a Slytherin!Harry. I hope my regular readers aren't too put-off by this. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story!

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><p><strong>The Warlock of Slytherin<strong>

by Romantic Silence

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

**Harry James Black**

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><p><strong>WARNING: This prologue takes place in fifth year whereas the next chapter begins a little before first year. It is meant to give you a glimpse of what happens in the future. If you want to keep reading, feel free to, but you have been warned.<strong>

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><p>In the corridor between the portrait of the bearded noble with the scepter and the suit of armor wielding a fantastic claymore, a crowd was forming. It was morning, and the halls were filled with students from all Houses hurrying to their classes. However, something had occurred that detracted them from their task and instead had them form a huge circle around a plot of space in the corridor. Draco Malfoy and his two constant followers, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, were three of five students that stood in the empty space. As the group of students gathered, a haughty sneer formed on his face.<p>

"Well, Potter, looks like we made quite the scene!" Draco stated proudly. "Well, what are you going to do? Oh, that's right! Nothing! You're nothing more than a spoiled, attention-seeking, daddy's boy!"

The Malfoy scion narrowed his eyes as he glared challengingly at his rival and sidekick.

Henry Potter, known as the Boy Who Lived, stared fiercely at his most troublesome foe. Ron Weasley, his best friend, stood by his side, sporting the same fierce stare that glared down at Draco and his two thugs. Aggravated by the blonde's words, Ron impatiently took a step forward and was about to raise his wand before Henry's hand grabbed hold of his wrist.

"No! That's what he wants!" Henry exclaimed. He turned to Draco and said, "Funny, the same could be said about you! All you ever do is go running back to your father whenever things don't go your way. Well, tough luck for you, Malfoy, but your father can't protect you like the sissy prat you are!"

Henry knew very well how to push Draco's buttons. As the blonde boy's face contorted to an expression of rage, he allowed a smug smirk to escape. Next to him, Ron began guffawing at Henry's comeback, inciting the other students that had been watching to laugh as well. As the crowd burst into laughing fits, Draco's face turned red, indicating that he was now thoroughly embarrassed. In frustration, Draco pulled out his wand and aimed it at Henry and Ron. The two of them were quick to react and pulled pointed their wands at Draco. Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle clumsily pointed theirs at the two Gryffindors.

A deathly silence fell over the crowd. It had become a standoff.

"That is enough!" cried an indignant voice amongst the still students. Hermione Granger pushed through the crowd of onlookers until her slim frame slipped into the open space between both groups. Her bushy brown hair was tied up in a pony tail, the remaining hair framing her face perfectly and allowing others to glimpse at the beauty she had displayed the previous year during the Yule Ball. Her warm, chocolate eyes were stern and observant, narrowing slightly as her sight fell on the two opposing parties. Her lips formed a thin line, expressing her apparent disapproval of what was occurring. Her Prefect badge gleamed proudly on her chest.

"Potter, Weasley, that is enough out of you two. That goes the same for you too Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle! It isn't even the third week since term started and already you are causing a ruckus! I warned the five of you repeatedly to cease this at once, but apparently you can't handle such a simple command." Hermione stated professionally. "I will report this to both Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape at once and have all five of you deal with the consequences of your blatant immaturity!"

"Oi, Granger, stay out of this! Besides, it wasn't us that started it! That ferret over there was the one that began insulting Henry here!" Ron sharply disagreed. He stood up at his full height, virtually shadowing over his fellow Gryffindor. Despite his height, he hardly looked intimidating what with his lanky build and fiery, red hair. He was staring impetuously at Hermione as he had never taken a liking to the rule-abiding girl.

"I will not!" Hermione replied. "You should be thanking me before things have gotten out of hand or else your punishment would have come out much worse than a few nights of detention!"

"You should listen to the mudblood, Potter." Draco said, his voice condescending. "If Granger hadn't stopped us, then I would have wiped the floor with you. Be grateful she decided that your life is worth something."

Immediately, Henry and Ron shot out their wands and fired spells at Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. Caught off-guard by the swift attack, the three Slytherins were knocked back as their wands were sent flying towards their aggressors. Henry and Ron caught the Slytherins' wands and smiled triumphantly at the three of them. Hermione's mouth gaped open at the sudden exchange and looked ready to hex the two Gryffindors. The crowd watching cheered at the excitement and at Henry and Ron's display of magical prowess.

Hermione's mouth gaped open as she stared. Her attention turned to Henry and Ron and cried out, "Are you mad? Fighting in the halls! Professor McGonagall is going to have your heads!"

Henry grinned cockily, "It was self-defense."

"Right, self-defense." Ron agreed, adopting the same cocky grin his best mate had.

"Potter!" Draco yelled. "Unhand my wand! Wait until my _father_ hears about this. You will regret that you -"

"Regret what, Malfoy?" Henry sneered. "Regret embarrassing you in front of the entire student population?"

At his words, everyone began laughing at the three defeated Slytherins with the exception of Hermione. She frantically tried to settle everyone down and return things to order, but her pleas were ignored in favor of humiliating Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle further. For Draco's two lackeys, they remained unaware of what was happening. They were known to be dim-witted and had yet to realize the full extent of their humiliation. They waited on Draco to be told on what to do next.

Unable to overcome his fury, Draco opened his mouth to make a scathing retort.

"Draco." A smooth, serene voice called Draco's name amidst all of the laughter.

Almost immediately, the laughter died. Draco Malfoy stopped as he felt a chill run down his spine. Even Crabbe and Goyle's eyes grew fearful; while they followed Draco, there was an individual in Slytherin far more up the food chain than the Malfoy scion. Silence descended upon the crowd as calm, slow footsteps grew closer and closer. Henry and Ron, realizing who was coming, formed a scowl. Hermione sighed in relief, she was thankful that reinforcements had finally arrived.

From behind Draco and his two lackeys, the sea of students parted down the middle. They gave a wide berth as a student calmly strode through the path that had been created. The individual was a tall, slim fellow. He was not overly lanky like Ron, but his build suggested that he was well-defined underneath all his robes. He walked with a regal air to him, moving gracefully as each step he took was aligned perfectly forward as his long legs gave a longer gait. His complexion was not unnaturally pale like Draco's, but instead took on a creamy peach color that complemented well with his groomed, raven hair. He was what you would consider handsome, enhanced by the aristocratic presence he exuded. However, his most remarkable feature was the piercing gaze of his brilliant, green eyes.

His name was Harry James Black.

He stopped once he stood next to Draco. Ignoring all others, including Henry and Ron, his gaze rested solely on the sole heir of the Malfoy family. A small, soothing smile graced his lips as he placed a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder. In a voice undoubtedly filled with warmth and kindness, he asked him, "Draco. I called for you. Why did you not answer?"

Draco nearly shivered as the words left his mouth. He averted making eye contact with Harry. Tentatively, Draco finally answered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Oh? Well, then, that's quite alright, Draco." Harry replied, patting him easily on the back. "Now, would you share with me what happened."

"Well," Draco shifted his eyes to Henry and Ron, the two of them were glaring at Harry. "Potter and Weasley was insulting the honor of your name so I decided to defend you! Then once they refused to apologize, they raised their wands against us and took our wands! I have never seen such unrefined actions in all my life."

"Hey! We did not!" Ron shouted. "You're the one that started the whole thing. Hey, Black, Malfoy over there was insulting Henry!"

Henry bit his lip and nodded, "The git wouldn't leave us alone and then he and his goons raised their wands at us! The only thing we did was preemptively defended ourselves."

Harry turned to the two Gryffindors, his eyes resting on them as he studied them carefully. Draco scowled and moved to talk, but a hand raised by Harry ceased his thoughts of retorting. Instead of speaking, Harry walked away from Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle and moved towards Henry and Ron until he stood face to face with the Boy Who Lived.

It was always remarkable at how alike their appearance was. Their faces had a similar structure and their builds were closely the same. The only difference was that while Harry's hair was groomed and controlled, Henry's dark hair was far more wild and messier than his Slytheirn counterpart. Also, their eyes were completely different. While Harry's green eyes displayed an unfathomable cunning, Henry's brown eyes hinted mischief and confidence.

"So what you're saying, Potter," Harry began calmly, "is that Draco, a member of my House, purposely lied to his fellow Housemate who, may I add, is also the male prefect representing his year?"

Henry, not intimidated in the slightest, shot a fierce glare at Harry, "Yes."

"I see." Harry turned to Hermione whom had taken to watching the scene unfold and allowed Harry to handle the situation. While she would never admit it out loud to anyone, she knew that when it came to these type of matters, Harry was far more suited to deal with it than her. She did not have the same commanding presence as he did.

"Harry," Hermione called out to him, "Draco was the one that instigated it. He confronted Potter over the articles about him in the Daily Prophet. The two traded insults and it escalated until wands were drawn. It was Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle who drew their wands first, but Potter and Weasley disarmed them before they had a chance to cast a spell."

Harry cupped his chin, and nodded, "Is that so?"

"Granger is lying!" Draco shouted from behind Harry. "Why should you listen to a pitiful mudbl-"

"Draco." Harry interrupted him. His voice turned cold, "Enough."

His word alone immediately silenced Draco. Harry returned his attention back to Henry and Ron, smiling at them apologetically, "I'm sorry for how awful my Housemate had treated you. Would you be so kind as to hand over their wands? I assure you that they will be reprimanded appropriately after classes are over. Now, what do you say we just let bygones be bygones?"

At such a courteous apology, Henry simply could not refuse. Wordlessly, he and Ron handed the wands over to Harry. Once it was done, Harry returned the wands back to Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. Once Draco had his wand back, he viciously raised his wand to strike while Henry was inattentive to him, but an icy stare from Harry instantaneously ended the thought.

"You'll get your comeuppance, Potter!" Draco vowed before leaving with his two followers.

With Draco gone, Harry clapped his hands, eliciting the attention of the students, "Alright. Everything is over. Please make your way to your respective classes. If you do not hurry, you will be late. Run along now."

The crowd of students did as they were told and began dispersing. Since the interesting event had already ended, there wasn't anything left to be entertained by. The students began talking amongst themselves, their topic having to do with what had just happened.

The only students left in the Hall were Harry, Hermione, Henry, and Ron. Hermione stepped forward from her fellow Gryffindors and approached the Slytherin prefect. An affectionate smile adorned her face as she said, "I'm jealous, Harry. Honestly, I wish I could have done something like that. It's always so troublesome when they don't listen to me."

"It can't be helped." Harry replied, giving Hermione a small smile. "You _are_ considered a very loving and kind girl. You've only been a prefect for a few weeks and already some of the First Years I've talked to would rather prefer to get help from you. That's an admirable reputation."

"I suppose." Hermione stated airily. "Still, it is such a hassle when Malfoy starts trouble. Why does he always pick the days when I'm on duty to cause problems?"

"To irk you?"

"He _would_ be petty enough for that."

The two prefects chuckled together. It was no secret to anyone that Harry and Hermione were the best of friends despite their differing Houses. However, the secret was that the two of them had been friends since they were children, long before both of them arrived at Hogwarts' doors. It all began when Harry's uncle had been promoted to regional manager of his company when Harry had been six and they moved from their home in Little Whinging, Surrey. Harry moved next door to Hermione and the pair had hit it off right away. Although, it surprised them when they both found out that the two of them were going to Hogwarts together.

"Harry." Henry said as he and Ron walked over to him. The scowl and glare pointed to Harry was gone and replaced with an apprehensive familiarity. The same, however, cannot be said with Ron who still narrowed his eyes pointedly at Harry.

Ignoring Ron, Harry eyed Henry aloofly. With a polite bow of his head, he asked, "Yes, _brother_ of mine?"

Harry and Hermione's relationship to one another was not the greatest secret Harry James Black had. Rather, it was the relationship that he had with none other than the Boy Who Lived. Harry James Black was originally named Harry James Potter, the younger twin brother of Henry Charlus Potter, the one that, allegedly, defeated Lord Voldemort when he was a baby. It was also the night that Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, and their mother, Lily Potter, died. What came after was something both Harry and Henry didn't know. Harry was whisked away, abandoned by his father and left to be raised by Petunia and Vernon Dursley, his aunt and uncle on his mother's side.

Harry's upbringing with his relatives was not the best. Though they did not abuse him, he was treated with little warmth. His aunt, most of all, was largely apathetic to his existence. Ironically, it was his magic-hating, normal-obsessed Uncle Vernon that treated him fairly. Perhaps it was in large part of having been abandoned by his father as well, but he treated Harry with some dignity. While he may not have been loving like he was with his own son, Harry learned the importance of appearance and deception from him. Uncle Vernon was a flawed individual who sported bigoted views and a close-minded perspective in many areas, but his ability to hide it well from his neighbors, his clients, and even his own wife with a cheery disposition was something Harry always admired. The man was, after all, a successful salesman.

It had been a surprise when Harry received his invitation to Hogwarts. Though disapproving, his relatives allowed him to attend. It was when he visited Diagon Alley and went to Gringotts to cash in what money he had been given for his school supplies that he learned that he had a large inheritance. His godfather, Sirius Black, had left him everything he had. Sirius Black had even given him the title of being the Lord of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. Throughout his childhood, his relatives had often told him how his father abandoned him as an infant after his mother died which. Harry grew to loathe his biological brother and any connection to the Potter name. It was with these feelings that led Harry into accepting his lordship and adopting his godfather's last name.

He entered magical society as Harry James Black, Lord of the Black Family.

"We're not _brothers_." Henry replied. "Just because we look alike doesn't mean we are! Stop making that joke!"

Both Harry and Hermione had to suppress a smile. _How blissful ignorance can be._ The two of them thought.

Harry grinned, "My apologies then, Henry. Now, what do you need? Hermione and I still have to patrol the halls before attending our classes."

Henry and Ron shared a look, their worries clear on their faces. Henry resumed his attention to Harry and explained, "Look, we may not have the best relationship." An understatement. "However, you're considered the leader of the Slytherins, at least, those of your year and below." An accurate observation. "And considering in the past that you've helped me," A misconstrued concept. "do _you_ believe me about Voldemort returning?"

Ron shuddered when the Dark Lord's name was said. Harry and Hermione, on the other hand, remained unfazed. Harry held a calculating look over Henry, analyzing his options. For all of his bravado and arrogance he had displayed in the past as the son of James Potter, Boy Who Lived, and Youngest Seeker of the Century, Harry understood that Henry would not lie when it came to such serious matters. Besides, Harry completely understood the corruption the magical government had. Cornelius Fudge's placement of Dolores Umbridge as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was one of his latest misconduct. You did not have to be a genius to figure out that her placement was only to keep Henry and Dumbledore under the eye of the Ministry.

Harry nonchalantly shrugged and answered, "It doesn't concern me."

With that said, Harry and Hermione turned their backs and walked off. Though to the two friends, they believed the conservation was finished, but to Henry, it was far from over.

"Doesn't concern _you_? Of course _you_ would think that wouldn't _you_? I was foolish to think that... forget it. Even though you're... ugh. Ron! Let's go."

Harry didn't turn his head back, but Hermione craned her neck to watch the two Gryffindors walk away. She frowned, curious as to what caused that outburst. For as long as she knew Henry and Ron, they hardly ever wanted anything to do with a Slytherin, _especially_ Harry. Even if Harry had helped Henry confront Quirrel their First Year, opened the Chamber of Secrets for Henry to enter in Second Year, helped capture Peter Pettigrew their Third Year, and warned Henry of the dragons and gave him the hint about the egg during the Tri-Wizard tournament the previous year, Henry and Ron refused to acknowledge Harry was anything but evil.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry asked beside her.

"Just thinking." Hermione truthfully said. "I just found it odd that Potter acted the way he did. Usually, he would just ignore you."

"You're right." Harry admitted. "It's strange. Perhaps it's something I should look into."

"Perhaps. Still, I am curious though, what _are_ your thoughts with his claims of Voldemort's resurrection?"

"To be frank, Draco is right about him being a spoiled, attention-seeking daddy's boy." Harry grinned slyly. At the sharp look Hermione gave him, he confessed, "Yes, I was watching the entire time. I thought it was amusing. Don't look at me like that, I intervened when things were about to turn violent had I not?"

"It is the principle of the matter, Harry."

"Of course. Anyway, to continue my answer, I do believe Henry is telling the truth. It is a topic I am about to bring up with the Slytherins soon. At the moment, we are refraining from making any collective opinion until we discuss it. Unfortunately, Draco is being aggravating as usual. The lad really gives the rest of Slytherin a bad name."

"Potter and his friends may be obnoxious from time to time, but at least they mean well and actually contribute to the House. Though annoying, they aren't on the level of Malfoy."

"Indeed. I would trade Draco for Henry any day."

At the end of their patrol route, Harry and Hermione had to part ways. Harry had Charms with the Ravenclaws and Hermione had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. Before the two of them left to attend their respective classes, Harry dipped his head forward and placed a sweet, warm kiss on Hermione's lips. She reciprocated the action, kissing him back with the same loving fervor.

"I heard from the Head Boy that a trip to Hogsmeade is soon. Would you care to accompany me?" Harry whispered under his breath as he rested his forehead against hers.

Hermione beamed happily and gave him a chaste kiss, "Of course."

With the two of them satisfied, they separated. Their relationship had begun earlier during the summer. It was only natural that the two of them began seeing each other in a romantic light. Despite their apprehension of moving their relationship to a different level than what they were familiar with, the two of them were content on how things had progressed.

They departed and Harry hurried along to Charms. Professor Flitwick was well-aware of his the duties of the prefects and would not comment his tardiness. Curiously, when Harry entered the classroom, that the Slytherins and Ravenclaws were without the diminutive professor. He perused through the students that were inside, but saw nothing odd with either of the Houses.

Ignoring the Ravenclaws, Harry moved towards the Slytherins. His presence immediately alerted the other Fifth Years of his House and they turned to him respectfully. He passed through the rows of Slytherins until he arrived at an empty seat at the back of the classroom. Surrounding the seat in front, behind, and to the side of it were the other Slytherins, establishing himself as the centerpiece of the entire group. Harry rested his elbow atop of the surface in front of him and placed his cheek upon his hand. Apathy ruled his physiognomy as he gazed aloofly to the front of the classroom.

"Where is Professor Flitwick?" Harry asked.

"One of the Ravenclaws thought they could show how 'advanced' they are and attempted to do a Seventh Year spell." To his immediate left, Daphne Greengrass answered lazily. Her arms were crossed and she was leaning back against her chair. She was a blonde haired beauty and was easily considered one of the most beautiful witches in Hogwarts. Her uncaring disposition and venomous gaze made many of the male student population want to bed her. Her true strength was her incredible intelligence and her ability to use it. If it were not for Harry's intense feelings for Hermione, he would have been truly attracted to Daphne.

"He inflated to the size of a balloon and had to be taken to the Hospital wing. What an idiot, right?" Behind Daphne, her friend, Tracey Davis, finished her explanation and then laughed at the misfortune of the Ravenclaw. Like Daphne, she was a beauty to be admired. Tracey was a sporty girl, with relatively short, black hair that fell in waves. Though often hidden under her loose clothing, Tracey had developed womanly muscles on account of her dueling expertise. Her mother was a regular finalist of European dueling competitions and it was obvious her skills had been inherited by her daughter. She was also Harry's female prefect counterpart.

Seated behind Harry, Theodore Nott coughed loudly. Though built tall and lean, he had a surprisingly frail body. His skin was always pallid and his cheeks were always gaunt. He had long, brown hair that mostly covered his eyes as he cared little about his appearance. He was an excellent student, focusing more on his studies than socializing and taking part of physical activities. Every year, he was ranked as one of the top students of their class. In a strained voice, Theodore said, "He flicked his wrist too hard. The result of it caused the magical energy he was distributing to flux uncontrollably and backfire."

"Humph. What can you expect? Ravenclaws are only good for tests. It's not like any of them know how to use spells practically." Blaise Zabini haughtily stated in the seat right of Theodore. He was a handsome young man with dark skin and short hair. His long, slanting, brown eyes were affixed into a disapproving glare as he recalled the incident. Everyone in Slytherin knew how large Blaise's ego can be; in fact, it far exceeded Draco's ego. But unlike Draco, he had the abilities to back it up and the forethought to display it sparingly.

"Hey guys! Vincent and Gregory told me where Draco is. They said he wanted to skive off Charms to write a letter to his father because they lost a duel to Potter and Weasley." Millicent Bulstrode, seated in front of Daphne, eagerly relayed to the other Slytherins. While portly, unattractive, and even somewhat dim-witted, Millicent was at least more intelligent than Crabbe and Goyle. She also served as a translator between the two goons and the rest of the House. For some odd reason, she was able to understand the grunts and slow responses of the two.

"What? Is that true, Harry?" To the right of Harry sat Pansy Parkinson, Draco's apparent girlfriend. Though not as attractive as Daphne and Tracey, she was one that could be considered pretty. Unfortunately, her unsavory personality and lust for dominance made her an unpopular figure outside Slytherin and tolerable within. However, despite her callous traits, Pansy enjoyed the unity within Slytherin and would do whatever it took to maintain it.

Harry felt all eyes were on him. Amused, a small smile formed as he waved his hand dismissively. He confirmed their suspicions, "Potter and Weasley disarmed Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle after the latter instigated the conflict and traded insults. Despite his advantage, Draco did lose."

"Again?" Daphne said with a click of her tongue.

"What an idiot!" Tracey laughed heartily.

"Unfortunate." Theodore commented, uninterested.

"Fool." Blaise muttered.

"Oh, too bad." Millicent shrugged.

"Poor Draco." Pansy cooed.

"By the way, once classes are over, I would like to hold a meeting. It is concerning the events that had occurred at the end of term last year. I believe it is time that we discuss it. We will meet in the usual spot. I take it that everyone can make it?" Harry intertwined his fingers and placed both elbows on the table as he rested his chin atop his woven hands. He waited patiently for an answer and was pleased to hear the murmurs of agreement from all of the Slytherins present.

Once upon a time, everyone once believed that Draco Malfoy was the leader of the Slytherins. Throughout First, Second, and Third Year, he had the title of "Prince of Slytherin". A respectable nickname that declared his status within the House of cunning. But that changed in Fourth Year when Harry James Black, a once seemingly unimposing individual who was oddly nice to everyone despite being in Slytherin, took rein of Draco Malfoy's rule. At least, that's what people from other Houses assumed when one day, they found Draco cowering under Harry's cool gaze after the former insulted Hermione Granger. After that incident, Draco temporarily stopped his antagonizing of all the Houses.

To the Slytherins, the entire debacle was an entirely different story. It was more of an older sibling punishing a younger one. To many Slytherins, Harry James Black was an enigma. Everyone knew who the Black family were and it was a shock to find out that the bloodline hadn't completely fallen on to Draco Malfoy, whose mother was a Black. By Third Year, Harry completely united the Slytherins in his year under his banner, Draco included. After all, who wouldn't be impressed with his lineage and wealth? But Harry wasn't one to flaunt his role. He mainly took to the shadows, carefully ensuring that the House remain united so that the negative reputation of their House wouldn't affect them.

If the rest of the school hated them, they would stand together as a family. Though they were cunning and ambitious, Harry introduced the concept of honor. Bring honor to Slytherin, never embarrass the House. They all took that to heart. All except Draco whose actions continued to embarrass them with his flaunting of wealth and undignified actions. Though embarrassing, his actions could easily be forgiven as it only represented him and his group. It was not until his insults to Hermione Granger, Harry's best friend, did things become tumultuous for the Malfoy scion and became the straw that broke the camel's back. From then on, it wasn't Malfoy that would represent Slytherin, it would be Harry.

After establishing that he was the true leader of the Slytherins, the student body gave him a nickname for his feats.

Harry James Black, the Warlock of Slytherin.

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><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: I tried a different style of writing and I hope it is intriguing so far. I know there are a lot of questions as to what happened in the past four years, but I assure you that many of them would be answered in the following chapters. I deliberately made Harry to be a bit ambiguous. Is he a bad guy or is he a good guy? Who knows! I also hope some liked the exposition I established. It's kind of hard not to have that. Anyway, this chapter is meant to establish what the world and its inhabitants are like at first glance.


	2. Living in Harmony

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: After I wrote the prologue, I was struggling how I wanted to present the story. I knew what was going to happen and how things were going to occur, but what escaped me was how I wanted to execute it. I had thought of simply continuing Fifth Year and having plenty of flashbacks along the way, but I thought that felt cheap and a bit of a cop-out to the actual development of the characters. Instead, I decided, I was going to start at the very beginning to the days before Hogwarts leading up to the story's present. Fortunately, I'm not going to spend much time on each year. There is going to be only two to three chapters for each year.

Also, while I understand that people used the Character Filters to show what the main pairing would be in the story, in this case, it actually serves to showcase who are the two main characters. Harry and Hermione are the two main characters and, as such, we will be switching back and forth from their perspectives. Hopefully, if you had read my other stories, I think I'm rather good with writing from Hermione's point of view, yes?

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><p><strong>Chapter I <strong>

**Living in Harmony**

"Boy, get in here!" Uncle Vernon's voice boomed from the living room.

Harry Potter exited the bathroom after relieving himself and rushed to his uncle. He entered the living room to find Uncle Vernon and two of the movers setting the furniture into place. The large, fat man that was Uncle Vernon turned and found Harry standing patiently under the arch that led from the corridor to the room. With his huge hand, he gestured Harry to come over. The boy was polite and patient, Uncle Vernon liked that.

"What is it, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked him, his voice not too loud nor too quiet.

"Where is your aunt and cousin?" Uncle Vernon gruffly asked him, not taking his eyes off the movers.

"Aunt Petunia is exploring the backyard to find a good spot where to put the garden and Dudley is upstairs in his new room." He answered. The truth was that Dudley was upstairs already unpacking his toys and making a mess of his room. However, Harry wouldn't say anything about that. If Dudley got in trouble through his own actions, then Dudley had no reason to come after him. Although, knowing Dudley, Harry figured he wouldn't need a reason to begin with.

Uncle Vernon frowned and stroked his mustache, a habit of his when he was contemplating. He looked down at Harry and asked, "Are your belongings already in your room?"

Harry nodded. Although he still had the smallest bedroom in the household, his bedroom was twice the size as his old one. He couldn't complain.

"Good lad." Uncle Vernon smiled. "Go next door and introduce yourself. It would do well to always be courteous. You got that, boy?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry knew that Uncle Vernon just wanted to be rid of him as the movers settled everything in.

"Good. Now go."

Harry did as he was told and exited the house. His new home was twice the size of the one he had at Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon said that the bigger the house, the better they would be able to impress the clients he brought home. However, Uncle Vernon also said that it was also better to have a house that was not about your station. Though Harry didn't know exactly what he meant by that, he guessed that it was good to look good, but don't look too good.

He began walking down the sidewalk and towards the only other occupied house that was on the street. The houses across from them were still empty. Uncle Vernon said that they were in a new house that only had just been recently built. Harry didn't mind moving from Little Whinging. Dudley and his group of friends harassed him frequently because he was smaller than they were. However, they were gone now. Sure, Dudley threw a fit because he wasn't going to see his friends anymore, but even that didn't stop the move. Uncle Vernon said he had been waiting on this promotion for quite some time now.

Harry liked Uncle Vernon. He was hard on him, but he was always teaching him new things.

_Always look into the eyes of the one you're speaking to, it is a sign of confidence._

_Never say too much or say too little, always say enough._

_If you want to succeed, you have to be believe in yourself that you can succeed._

He never said those words to Dudley. Also, Uncle Vernon bought him something for the first time ever on his birthday. His glasses were always slipping off, so Uncle Vernon gave him contacts so that he would be able to see without them. Harry thought he was better than his own deadbeat father. He never met him, but Uncle Vernon said that after his mother died, he abandoned him on the Dursleys' doorstep when he had been just a baby. Harry didn't like him. After all, if his dad didn't like Harry, why should he like him?

Harry walked down the cobblestone path that led to the door. He skipped atop the big rocks as he avoided the smaller ones. They were lava and if he touched them, he was dead. Harry nimbly hopped from big rock to big rock until he reached the welcome mat in front of the front door. Before he rang the doorbell, Harry stopped and looked at the house. It was smaller than the Dursleys', but it had a lot of trees and bushes all around its front yard. Harry wondered if the house wasn't part of the new ones being built. He rang the doorbell.

Inside, a little girl shot her head up from behind the pages of a book. The doorbell was ringing! Hermione Granger panicked. Her parents were still asleep and they were the ones who answered the door! Who was going to answer it? Her mother always told her it was rude to keep someone waiting. Hermione closed the book and shot from her room and ran down the stairs. If her parents were going to answer it, then she will! She was a big girl now anyway, her father said so himself last night when he carried her on her back. After all, she was almost seven!

Once Hermione reached the door, she soon realized that she was unable to look through the peep hole because of her height. Well, it was no matter. Only relatives visited and the mailman when he had a package. At the thought of a package, Hermione's eyes widened. Instantly, her mind wandered to a month ago when she pestered her mother to buy her that new encyclopedia that had been on the telly! Her mother said it would not arrive for some time and so she had to wait. She had almost forgotten all about it! Excited, Hermione clutched the door handle and ripped it open.

To her immense disappointment, it was not the mailman. It was a boy.

"Hello!" Harry greeted Hermione shyly. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you Harry Harry Potter. I'm Hermione Jean Granger." Hermione greeted back courteously. Then, remembering her etiquette lessons from her aunt, she quickly curtsied. Mother and auntie insisted that it was important to be a proper lady. "Isn't your name funny? Why is your first and middle name the same?"

Harry was taken aback. He fervently shook his head, "My name isn't Harry Harry Potter. It's Harry James Potter!"

"Then why did you say Harry Harry Potter?" Hermione asked him curiously. So far, the boy named Harry was really peculiar. Why would you introduce yourself as Harry Harry Potter if that wasn't your real name? Staring at the flustered boy, Hermione noticed how delightfully green his eyes were. She noted that his brown hair and green eyes complemented well with one another, making his eyes all the more piercing and vibrant. He was handsome. Hermione lightly smiled.

"I wasn't, I was only -" Harry stopped and stared at the bushy-haired girl. He gazed at her carefully, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him. She was smiling at him. The ends of her lips were curled up only ever so slightly. Harry had seen many smiles before. Uncle Vernon always smiled really big when he was with a client and his teachers would always adopt the same kind of expression when kids were being rowdy or upsetting. Though they were large, they never seemed to reach their eyes. Yet, for some reason, Hermione's smile felt very sincere. It was strange. It made him feel warm.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione inquired. He had stopped in mid-sentence and was staring at her. "You're weird."

"I'm not weird!" Harry cried out. "I just moved in with my aunt, uncle, and cousin! We live up the street in the big house! Uncle Vernon said I should introduce myself so that's why I'm here."

"Oh." Hermione paused. "Do you like books, Harry?"

Harry had never met such a confusing girl before. In Little Whinging, the girls there were always giggling and talking about something he never could quite understand. They also made it abundantly clear that they disliked him, even if he had never done anything to them. Hermione was odd in that she called him weird, but did not say it in a way that was insulting. Also, she didn't make fun of his hand-me-down clothing nor did she ridicule him about his messy hair like the other girls had done. She even smiled at him! It was quite a nice smile.

Hermione patiently waited for his answer. She hoped that he did like books. None of her classmates liked them. She had tried to show them that you could become very smart if you read them by answering all of the teacher's questions, but they were never impressed. Instead, they would insult her for being a bookworm or make fun of her bushy hair or laugh at her two large front teeth. How her appearance related to reading and liking books, Hermione would never know.

"Um, if you mean I like to read them, then yes, I like books very much." Harry answered her with his own smile.

Instantly, Hermione squealed in delight. Harry was surprised by how she responded. Before he could react, he felt her hand grabbing his wrist. Hermione pulled him in, closing the door behind him. Immediately, she pulled him towards the staircase.

"I have a _large_ collection of books in my room! Let me show you. You are going to love it, Harry. I have all sorts from dictionaries to novels to textbooks and..." Hermione began talking animatedly about her wide range of books that she had at her disposal.

Harry just watched, fascinated how energetic Hermione had become. He wondered if it was okay to follow her demands, but considering Uncle Vernon wanted him out of the house for a couple of hours, he saw no harm in complying. Harry never played at another person's house before and it excited him that Hermione invited him in. Though he had only just met her, Harry couldn't help but like her. She was friendly and nice.

It was the start of something new for both of them.

* * *

><p>Harry Potter and Hermione Granger walked down the steps of their school side by side. The other children were rushing off towards the cars of their parents or moved to their group of friends to talk and chat. Others were running to the bus, rushing in order to claim their preferred seats. Only few children were walking home, as was the case of Harry and Hermione.<p>

It was Friday and the weekend was upon them. Usually, that meant little to Harry and Hermione. After all, it was only a two day reprieve before they were shipped right back to school. This weekend was different though and it was clear from the obvious skip to their steps and cheerful humming that both Harry and Hermione were absolutely ecstatic with the coming days. After all, it was going to be Hermione's birthday.

"Harry, we're best friends right?" Hermione asked him as they played "Avoid the Cracks on the Pavement".

Harry stared long and hard at the next sidewalk square. It was riddled with various cracks and crevices. It would be very difficult to navigate through them. He lightly stepped forward, concentrating on avoiding the cracks that completely engulfed that portion of the sidewalk. Moving on the tips of his toes, Harry managed to get through that one particular square and moved on to the next. Fortunately, it only had one crack and it was too tiny to be considered a threat. It was avoided easily.

"Of course. The day you dragged me into your room and forcibly made me read your entire collection of _It's a Wonderful World of Diseases_, I knew that you and I were destined to be friends forever." Harry answered her in the manner typical to him. It always amused him whenever Hermione reacted to his odd quips. His tone always made her believe that he was completely serious with his words.

Despite the sarcastic remark, Harry truly believed they were best friends. There was no doubt in his mind. Ever since they met over four years ago, they had been practically inseparable. When he was younger, Harry visited her often and spent a great deal of time with her family. However, after Hermione went on vacation for about a month a year after they met, Harry realized he had to keep some distance to not be too dependent on Hermione. He had been a complete wreck that one month without her. Harry wasn't sure, two years after making that decision, if he was successful in that endeavor. Hermione's parents did give him a key to their house.

Hermione frowned. "Be serious, Harry."

"No. We are not best friends, Hermione." An expression of shock and hurt appeared on Hermione's face. "We're super best friends!" Hermione's pained look vanished and was replaced with an odd smile. "We're far above those of regular best friends. Some are naive to think they can be content in the level of simply 'best friends' when there is, in fact, a superior level beyond their comprehension!"

At the end of Harry's rant, Hermione started giggling uncontrollably. They stopped playing their little game and Harry smiled as he watched his best friend fell into a fit of laughter. His work finished, he mentally imagined himself walking off into the distant sunset with Hermione in hand. He would have done it in reality if it were not for the fact that the sun was far from setting any time soon and that they had to be home by five.

Hermione finished her giggling and wiped the last of her tears. Though Harry had always been able to keep a straight face, Hermione knew from the amusement lighting up in his green eyes when he was not actually serious. Harry's eyes were always expressive, frequently showcasing his emotions for all to see. Tragically, Hermione noted, no one else realized it.

"Harry, I was serious." Hermione stated.

"So was I."

"Okay. Fine." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Since we're _super_ best friends, can you tell me?"

Harry stared at her and asked innocently, "Tell you what?"

"What dad and you are planning for my birthday!"

Realization soon dawned on Harry. It was not the first time Hermione had asked him to reveal the secrets of his gift to her. She was relentless in her pursuit to unveil his plans. Hermione even went as far as threatening to reveal his affection for his crush. Fortunately, Hermione lost her bargaining chip when said little girl moved away. Because of this, Hermione had fallen to desperate measures. Hermione was now asking him every day and doing so quite frequently. Harry held strong though. He was not going to spoil the surprise.

"That is only your dad and I to know until your birthday, Hermione." Harry affirmed. "Your birthday is tomorrow, can't you wait one more day?"

Hermione pouted and sighed, "Alright. _Fine_. It's just so frustrating seeing you come over and only spending time with my dad for hours on end without me knowing what you two are up to for the last month or so!"

"You should learn to be patient, Hermione."

"And _you_ should stop being so incorrigible."

"Touché."

They soon reached Hermione's house and the two friends began marching up the path to the door. Hermione remarked that her parents were home early as the family car was parked in the driveway. The pair entered the house using Hermione's key; Hermione yelled out that she was home and had brought Harry along.

Hermione didn't question Harry coming over. He came over often enough to warrant entrance without invitation. Today, Harry had come over to finalize his present for Hermione's birthday and that Aunt Petunia told him earlier in the morning that she and Uncle Vernon would not be home until six or so. Dudley was going to spend his time at a friend's house, so Harry decided to do the same.

As Harry removed his shoes, he noticed a peculiarity by the front door. Standing in what usually had been an empty space by the wall was a display case. Inside were all of the achievements that Hermione had accomplished in the last few years or so. He remembered several of them. There was medal from the Spelling Bee last year that Hermione won. Harry also spotted the second place trophy from winning the Maths team competition; he had been on the same team and had a similar trophy in his room. All of Hermione's academic achievements from science fairs to scholarly competitions Hermione participated in yearly.

Funnily enough, Harry observed, Hermione's accomplishments from academia was hardly the main display. It was merely a supplement. There, in the very center of the display, were three of the the largest trophies Harry had ever seen. All three were from Hermione's fencing championships; all three revealed that Hermione was the number one champion in her age group.

Hermione was brilliant, but scary.

_Very_ scary.

"Oh no, did mum take out the display case?" Hermione asked behind Harry.

Harry turned and nodded, "It seems so."

"Great." Hermione said sarcastically as she crossed her arms. "Victoria is coming over."

Hermione knew that when the display case was placed near the entrance instead of remaining in the study, that only meant one thing: her aunt, Olivia, and her cousin, Victoria, were coming over. Even though both were well into their thirties, her mother, Charlotte, and Aunt Olivia continued their fierce sibling rivalry from their childhood. Her mother was usually very kind and very patient, but placed in the same room as her sister and she transforms into a competitive beast. Thinking about it, Hermione realized then where her own competitive nature came from.

Despite Aunt Olivia's _spirited_ behavior, she was still very kind and doting to Hermione. Victoria, on the other hand, was a nightmare. Inheriting her mother's attitude, she formed a heated rivalry against Hermione for some odd reason. Victoria was a braggart. Hermione won the Spelling Bee? Victoria won two Spelling Bees. Hermione made second place at the science fair? Victoria made first place. Hermione was an fencing champion? Victoria was an _archery _champion. Somehow, someway, Victoria always one-upped her. In fact, she was even much, much prettier! Hermione was terribly envious of how Victoria inherited her father's straight hair instead of the typical bushy hair that their mothers' family had. It was unfair. Her hair was a bushy mess no matter how many times she brushed it!

"I think you're prettier than Victoria, Hermione." Harry confessed sincerely, as if he had been able to read Hermione's mind. Though Harry would never verbally admit it, Hermione was just as bad as her cousin when it came to being competitive. The only difference was that she was unaware of it (or was in denial). Like her mother, Hermione's nature changed completely once in the presence of her familial rival. It was funny to see them compete every year. It served as a great source of amusement even if he had to step in occasionally to stop the two from murdering one another.

Hermione smiled at Harry. If there was one thing Victoria didn't have, it was him. "Thanks. I know you actually mean that."

"Oh, you kids are here?" Hermione's father, Nathaniel Granger, poked his head from up the stairs. "How was school?"

Mr. Granger was a man in his mid thirties, but looked closer to his early thirties instead. He had short, dark brown hair and had the same color eyes as Hermione, making it apparent whom she inherited her eye color from. Nathan was tall and thin-looking, but it appeared age was starting to catch up to him as his stomach was beginning to form a small gut. Similar to Harry, he didn't express his emotions as openly as his wife and child, leaving many to only see his seemingly stern face.

"It was alright." Hermione answered. "By the way, where's mum?"

"She took her car down to the market." Nathan spotted Harry and waved him over. "Harry! Good to see you lad. Ready to finish up our little present for Hermione?"

"Of course, Mr. Granger." Harry smiled and began ascending the steps. "Hermione was trying to find out what we're up to again."

"Traitor!" Hermione cried, betrayed.

Hermione's father chuckled at his daughter's expense and said, "Now, pumpkin, you have to wait until your birthday to get your present. Come quickly, Harry! We can't have Hermione follow us menfolk."

Harry and Nathan rushed up to the attic that had been converted into a loft. Hermione crossed her arms and huffed. With her attempts having failed to find out ahead of time what her present was, she had no choice but to just wait until tomorrow. It just tore at her that she didn't know anything Harry was planning. It was just absolutely frustrating. Well, whatever it was, it had better be worth it!

* * *

><p>"When are you going to give me my present, Harry?" Hermione asked Harry for the tenth time.<p>

Harry answered by blowing his party horn.

"Harry, stop fooling around! You promised that I was going to know today and you know how aggravated I get when I don't know something!" Hermione stated, exasperated.

Again, Harry answered by blowing his party horn. He rather liked the little party favor.

"You're incorrigible, Harry James Potter!"

Harry nodded and proceeded with heaving a great quantity of air into the party horn. The end result of the procedure created a strong displacement of air that reverberated through the inner lobes of the ear, simulating an excitable but somewhat annoying noise. Needless to say, Hermione was not amused.

The birthday party was nearly over. Relatives and family friends of the Grangers had came and went to celebrate Hermione's eleventh birthday. Hermione's Aunt Olivia and her cousin, Victoria, wasn't able to make it, significantly improving Hermione's mood. Fortunately for Harry, it distracted her from his surprise. He didn't want anyone else to see it, especially with people he didn't know. The last of the guests were leaving and that meant it was time to start setting everything up.

"Hermione, dear. Say good bye to your Uncle Jonathan!" Charlotte Granger, Hermione's mother, called from the front door.

Hermione shot a fierce glare at Harry that meant "It's not over" and hurried along to make her farewell to her uncle. Harry watched as Hermione and her mother gave the man a hug. Upon closer inspection, Harry noticed the numerous similarities Mrs. Granger had with Hermione. Charlotte was a very beautiful woman with wavy, brown hair that fell pass her shoulder blades. While she was not overweight, Hermione's mother certainly was "filled in all the right places" if Mr. Granger had anything to say about it.

While the birthday girl was distracted, Harry walked up the stairs that led to the attic-turned-loft. He was grateful that Uncle Vernon allowed him sleep over at Hermione's house frequently. He was also thankful that the Grangers were very kind people. Without all three of them, Uncle Vernon giving him his independence, and the Grangers encouraging their friendship, Harry wasn't sure if his friendship with Hermione would be as strong as it was. Although Hermione was presently irritated with him, it was not something that was going to last very long. It would be impossible to stay angry with him with what he had planned.

Meanwhile, Hermione waved off Uncle Jonathan as he walked to his car. Her mother closed the door and then mentioned she was going to clean up. Hermione soon found Harry missing, but she was not alarmed. If she knew him as well as she did, he was upstairs in her room, amusing himself to the things that were in it. Thank goodness that she didn't keep a diary. Harry had a penchant of being a mischievous, cheeky boy. It was that particular trait that made her both hate and love Harry at the same time. It always seemed she was falling into whatever shenanigans he was up to, both at school and around the neighborhood. Everyone thought he was a kind and polite little boy, but if they only saw what she did everyday.

"Harry, you better not be rearranging my books again." Hermione warned him as opened the door to her room.

To her eminent surprise, she found Harry sitting on top of her bed with an acoustic guitar on his lap. His left hand held on to the neck of the instrument while the other was placed over the strings, ready to play. Hermione's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. She was a deer caught in the headlights. Her mind ceased functioning as her brain were overloaded with numerous questions that needed to be answered.

"No questions, please." Harry told her, smiling. He gestured her to sit down on the nice, velvety cushion he had arranged on the floor in front of him. Hermione wordlessly complied and sat down, her brown eyes filled with utter confusion. "This is your birthday present. I'm going to play a song your dad taught me."

"So all this time...?"

"Your dad was teaching me how to play this one song on the guitar." Harry finished, blushing lightly at the admission. "I came up with the idea after you played the piano on my birthday."

Over a month ago, on the thirty-first of July, the Grangers threw a small party for Harry. Hermione, having been properly taught on how to play the piano and did not want to get a generic gift for her best friend, decided to play a simple song for Harry. It wasn't much, but the sweet melody that was played solely for Harry's benefit left a lasting impression on the raven-haired boy. He couldn't help but want to do the same for Hermione on her birthday. Having made up his mind, Harry asked Mr. Granger to teach him. It was difficult considering Harry only had a month to learn, but he was confident that he would be largely successful in this endeavor. He had to be, for Hermione's sake.

Hermione could only stare at Harry in awe. She knew how hard it could be to learn to play an instrument. Even after years of practice on the piano, Hermione knew that even she was terrible when compared to those that played their entire lifetime. Harry only had a month of experience and he wanted to perform? Incredible. Hermione understood that Harry was the type of person to do anything unless he was absolutely confident and sure of himself. If Harry wanted to perform now, Hermione trusted he had practiced earnestly to in order to meet his standards.

Being met with only silence, Harry took it as the chance to begin performing. His heart was beating rapidly and he felt beads of sweat starting to drop from his pores. He realized that he was absolutely frightened of failing and meeting Hermione's disapproval. Harry had worked so hard in order to make it just perfect and if he fell flat on his face in trying it now with Hermione's attention, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

Instead of thinking of the negatives, Harry began visualizing Hermione's smiling face and how happy she would be once he was finished. With that image in his mind, Harry began playing. Slowly, he began plucking the strings of the guitar, remembering everything Nathan Granger had taught him. In mere moments, Harry was entranced by the flow of the music. Various notes interlaced with one another to create a truly unique ensemble that generated the warmth and pleasantness of a regular afternoon. The song was slow and steady, but that was what Harry wanted. A riveting song that nurtured the delicate feelings of love and friendship.

Hermione closed her eyes, allowing the sounds of Harry's guitar create images in her head. Harry's playing was clumsy, but it did not deter from the overall performance. Instead, it added a truly unique charm that only Harry had. The smooth flow of the notes reminded Hermione of the mature, sly young boy Harry presented himself as to the world. However, Hermione could see, underneath it all, the gentle and warm soul that was Harry. He, more than anyone else she knew, struggled for the love and the acceptance of those around him. He moved with a clumsy grace, hoping to hide the vulnerabilities that he had.

Harry's song, Hermione observed, was his confession. It was his question and his answer to what they had.

As Harry finished, he looked down to wonder what Hermione had thought. He knew he had messed up on several parts, but he hoped that Hermione enjoyed it regardless of his mistakes. Harry knew immediately how Hermione felt when, suddenly, she grappled him onto her bed, her arms around his chest and squeezing as hard as she could. Harry was thankful that he had placed the guitar down or else he would have had trouble breathing.

"Harry, I love you. You're my _super_ best friend ever."

Harry smiled.

"You too, Hermione. But!" He exclaimed dramatically. "I think I found a level higher than _super_. I believe, after this, we are _ultra_ best friends."

Hermione looked up from her embrace and the pair made eye contact. Both of them remained serious as they contemplated over Harry's words. Instantly, Harry and Hermione burst out laughing. They collapsed onto the bed, their laughing having finished. Hermione rolled towards Harry and once again wrapped him around her arms. In response, Harry did the same. The two of them, sporting huge smiles, simply laid there as they soaked in the moment. All was well.

Gliding through the darkening skies, an owl swooped down to the Grangers' house and into Hermione's open window. It landed deftly atop of her desk and hooted. Tied to one of its legs was Hermione Granger's acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: Overall, I was pleased with this chapter. There was a scene I wasn't able to do because I felt it was more fitting to end it where it did, but I decided to move that to the next chapter instead. I understand that the genre is Adventure and Suspense, but I think it was good to show what sort of relationship Harry and Hermione before they are cast into a world filled with excitement and magic. I think I was successful in developing Harry's and Hermione's personality. While they remain similar to their canon counterparts, there are several changes to their character that could be construed as believable considering the environment they grew up in together.

Thanks for reading! I hope you like this chapter!


	3. Introduction to a World of Magic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: The easy thing about fanfiction is that you don't have to continually explain certain dynamics of the story. We all know what a wand is and we all know what magic is. However, I can't help but feel compelled to explain it regardless or not it's fanfiction. I do it because I don't want to get into the habit of not clearly explaining an aspect of the story. After all, I bet many writers that publish on this website hopes to publish their own novel one day. One thing I would like explain is that I don't purposely write to bash characters. I attempt to write through the viewpoint of the main characters and thus, the negative traits of the antagonists are often more highlighted. Furthermore, I will say it up front that it will take some time before we get back to Fifth Year. I have to show how things developed into that point. A lot of events that happened in canon would be changed or not even occur.

But.

Harry will still be one magnificent bastard throughout all those four years. Isn't that why you started reading this?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter II<strong>

**Introduction to a World of Magic**

For the life of her, Hermione did not know what to say. Sitting next to her on the large, lounge chair in the living room, Harry was also silent and though his face bore passivity and contemplation, there was no mistaking the look of shock in his eyes. To her left, her parents, on the couch with their hands intertwined, had their eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. Her mother knitted her eyebrows together and her father's mouth was slightly slack. Hermione turned her head back to the middle-aged woman standing in front of them, a thin smile on her lips to express her amusement over their reactions no doubt.

After all, how does a person react to being told that they were witch and had the ability to do feats of magic?

The middle-aged woman had introduced herself as Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus, Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions and recently appointed Muggle-born Liaison to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had light, blonde locks that was braided short at the back. Her eyes was a twinkling, sapphire blue that expressed warmth and ease. She had few wrinkles, but it was enough to show her age. Her face was stern, but it was countered by the charming smile she had.

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus had arrived not too long ago. Hermione estimated that she only been in their home for ten minutes, arriving shortly after she and Harry had read that strange letter she had gotten from an owl. It had appeared that there she had somehow been accepted into a school of magic. Whatever that meant, she didn't know at the time. Both she and Harry assumed that it was just an awful prank. However, Hermione – and Harry, though he did not mention it – noticed that it was strange that someone would take the time to train an owl to deliver letters.

Lucinda's subsequent arrival, however, changed that notion.

"Excuse me," Hermione's mother began. "Can you repeat that?"

Lucinda smiled and nodded. "Of course. As I said, I am Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus, Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions and recently appointed Muggle-born Liaison of the prestigious Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your daughter, Hermione, was recently sent a letter accepting her into our humble school on account of the fact that your daughter has the innate ability to perform magic. I have arrived to assure you that the letter is no fake and to answer any questions that you may have concerning magic."

"Magic?" Hermione's father asked. "You mean card tricks and all that?"

"No, no, Mr. Granger. I mean, _true_ magic. Allow me to demonstrate." Lucinda pulled out what looked like a long, wooden stick. She pointed the stick at a cup left out on the small table in the room and said, "_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

The cup suddenly floated up in the air and moved back and forth with a wave of Lucinda's stick.

"Bloody hell!" Nathaniel yelled.

"Nathan, language!" Charlotte chided.

Harry watched in fascination as the cup was levitated as high as the ceiling, only to be brought gently back down on the table. With that simple demonstration alone, Harry now truly believed that magic was real. He craned his neck to see what Hermione thought and saw her eyes light up with the same wonder that had been in his. Harry was never envious of Hermione before. They had always shared everything together and on the things they didn't, Harry didn't mind. But now, for some reason, he felt the gnawing feeling of envy in the pit of his stomach as he realized that Hermione had something that he could never possibly have.

"As you can see, in order to perform magic, it is required that one has a wand." Lucinda explained. "The wand is a catalyst that enables witches and wizards to cast spells like you have witnessed. If Hermione were to attend Hogwarts, she would be able to learn all sorts of magic."

At the word "learn", Hermione's eyes grew wide with excitement. If there was one thing that Hermione could not resit, it was the chance to acquire new knowledge. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. It seemed almost too fantastical for such events to have transpired and even much odder that it was happening to her. In her enthusiasm, Hermione had forgotten that Harry would not have the same chance as her.

"There is a whole world that is hidden completely from what you normally see. Magic is a well-guarded secret that only people with magic can know about. Of course, there are some exceptions. For example, the family and close friends of muggle-borns are exempt from not being able to know as it concerns a loved one. However, allow me to tell you that it is strictly against the law to reveal the secret of magic to a muggle. The wizarding world has lived in secret for centuries, and we do so because in the past, wizards and witches have been hunted down by those ignorant of them."

"The witch hunts!" Hermione shouted from her seat.

Lucinda grinned at the young girl. "Precisely, my dear."

"You keep saying 'muggle'. What's a muggle?" Harry asked politely, his voice calm and even but laced with curiosity.

"Oh, forgive me." Lucinda said apologetically. "A 'muggle' is a term used by wizards and witches to denote normal people that are unable to perform magic. A 'muggle-born' is a witch or wizard that were born from muggles yet have the ability to perform magic."

"So, you have to be born with magic to do magic?"

"I'm sorry, young man, but that is correct."

Harry silently nodded and remained quiet for the remainder of the witch's visit.

From Lucinda, Hermione learned that her job was to provide the list of items students needed for the coming year and to help introduce muggle-borns and their parents into the world of magic. Her recent appointment as Muggle-born Liaison was an important role as how well she performed would help determine whether or not the muggle parents would allow their children to attend. Lucinda explained that muggle-borns eligible to attend Hogwarts typically received their letters much earlier – usually in the summer – than their counterparts aware of their origins so as to give parents and the children time to come to a decision. It was uncommon that Hermione received her letter after term started, but it was not unusual.

Overall, the experience had been very knowledgeable and very time-consuming. By the time Lucinda had to leave, it was close to ten. Hermione's parents had ushered Harry and Hermione to bed, no doubt wanting to be alone to go over what they learned.

Unfortunately, the two children would not be able to sleep.

Harry laid motionless in his sleeping bag next to Hermione's bed. The sheets placed underneath the bag made it a lot more comfortable than it actually looked. The arrangement was not peculiar, it had been like this since their first sleepover when they were both seven. It was comfortable and an established practice. Ironically, it only showed how painfully poignant how things had changed in only a short, few hours. There was not going to be anymore sleepovers once Hermione went off to Hogwarts. She was going to be living there for the next seven years once she started.

"Harry, are you awake?" Hermione whispered in the darkness of the room.

"Yeah." Harry replied. "What is it, Hermione?"

"What do you think of all this? You were awfully quiet the entire time." Hermione answered. "I was just _excited_ that I nearly forgot about you. Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine." Harry smoothly said. "This must be a wonderful opportunity for you."

"It is. It's just..." She trailed off.

"Just what?"

"Well, now that all the excitement is gone, I'm wondering if it is a good idea to just accept and go there. To Hogwarts."

Harry knew he could have told her then that it would be bad if she went. There were plenty of reasons why she shouldn't go. She wouldn't have much contact with her parents and she would have to make new friends in an unfamiliar place. Harry knew how shy Hermione could be when meeting new people. She would try to show off her intelligence, but that would often result in others thinking she was a bossy know-it-all. However, Harry could not bring himself to do that.

Going to Hogwarts and learning magic was a wonderful opportunity that should not be passed up. He understood how important it was to learn new things and expand one's knowledge. After all, where would he be today if it weren't for Uncle Vernon's advice and Hermione influencing him to pique his intellectual curiosity? Stopping Hermione from attending a prestigious school all because he would be lonely or because he was jealous of her would only plague him with guilt.

"Hermione, it would be stupid of you if you didn't go." Harry told her sternly. "Is this the same Hermione who insisted on joining all of the academic clubs at school because she thought it would look good on her record?"

Hermione bit the bottom of her lip. "You talked me out of it though and I only joined a few clubs because of it."

"Exactly, it wouldn't have helped you joining all those teams. It would have ran you ragged. So why would I stop you from going to Hogwarts if it's clearly going to benefit you in the future?"

"Because we won't be together, Harry."

"I know that, Hermione, but I still think you should go." Harry sighed. "You'll do fine. You'll be the top of the class there and make a lot of friends. Besides, I think it's about time I stopped being second don't you think?"

Hermione chuckled. "Whatever you say, Harry. If I do go, I'm going to miss you."

"You haven't left yet. Let's just stop thinking about it, okay?"

"Okay, Harry. Good night."

As Harry settled further into his sleeping bag, his thoughts returned back to Hogwarts and Hermione. He wished that he had a chance to go too, and it was not only because he wanted to be with his best friend. The thought of being able to control magic at the touch of your fingertips was tantalizing. There was so much one person could do if they had a power like that. That night, when Harry slept, he dreamed of having magic that was his own.

* * *

><p>Harry stared down at his meal but did nothing but shift the contents around with his fork.<p>

"Boy, that is the meal your aunt prepared for you and this family, why aren't you eating?" From across the large, rectangular table, Uncle Vernon swallowed his food and stared at him.

Harry looked up from his plate and met his uncle's gaze. In the background, he spotted Dudley quickly eating his food and Aunt Petunia slowly chewing hers, but ignoring the conversation altogether. Harry shrugged and answered, "I'm just not hungry."

"Humph." Uncle Vernon scoffed. He turned away from Harry and started conversation with Aunt Petunia. "I've spoken to the Grangers when they checked my teeth earlier this afternoon. It seems their daughter is going to be attending some prestigious school up north. Smart lass, she is."

"May I be excused?" Harry interrupted.

Uncle Vernon grunted approvingly, allowing Harry to leave the table. As he left, conversation between Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia broke out, but Harry hardly cared what the contents were. He was in no mood to listen. He had already known that the Grangers finally relented and allowed Hermione to attend Hogwarts. It was July and he knew Hermione and her parents were preparing to visit Diagon Alley soon to obtain her materials; Hermione had told him that a member of the staff from Hogwarts would be assisting them.

It had been months since Hermione's eleventh birthday and the two of them had agreed not to speak of Hogwarts or anything relating to magic. It was better for the two of them to not be reminded of Hermione's departure in September. They carried out their lives as normally as possible. Hermione continued along with her schoolwork and extracurricular activities and while never hinting nor mentioning about magic until March when her parents made their approval.

Harry hated this feeling of melancholy that overcame him lately. He had been given considerable practice hiding his emotions from his best friend. He did not want her to know about his true feelings. Harry didn't want her to know how much he would truly miss her and how envious he was that she was able to break free from the monotony of a regular life.

He wished that, like Hermione, he was magical as well.

The next morning, Harry woke up with Uncle Vernon screaming for him to get down. Groggy, Harry stumbled his way into the sitting room, much earlier than he usually did. He had even yet to change from his pajamas. He found Aunt Petunia on the sofa, shaking and as white as a sheet. Draping her with his arms, Uncle Vernon patted her gently, whispering into her ears words of comfort. Confusion was etched on Harry's face as he observed the scene in front of him. Finally taking note of him, Uncle Vernon grunted and stared pointedly at a letter placed on the table.

"Open it, boy. It's for you." Uncle Vernon muttered bitterly.

Harry obeyed and picked up the letter. Immediately, he recognized the wax seal on the letter. His eyes nearly bulged out of its sockets as he gasped. It was from Hogwarts! Somehow, his wish had been granted. Not wasting any time, Harry removed the seal from the envelope and took out the letter. He unfolded the piece of parchment and began to read it out loud,

"Dear Harry Potter,

We pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..."

That was all Harry could read before he looked up and stared at his relatives. His passive face broke out into a huge grin as he shouted, "YES! I'M MAGIC!"

"Quiet, boy!" Uncle Vernon yelled.

Harry flinched. Uncle Vernon had never yelled at him before. He only did when it was to call either him or Dudley down. His eyes moving away from Uncle Vernon, his gaze settled on Aunt Petunia who began to grow even paler than before. With great trepidation, Harry asked, "What's wrong?"

Uncle Vernon ignored him and stood up. He turned to Aunt Petunia, shaking his head. "I knew this day would come. I _knew_! That freak trash of a father of that boy lied. 'He was normal' he said. 'He hadn't an ounce in his body' he said. What a load of rubbish! He would have said anything to abandon his son."

"It's not my fault!" Aunt Petunia cried out. "What were we supposed to do? I always told my sister that James was no good. How would I have known that bastard would leave his child as soon as she died?"

"What's wrong?" Harry asked again, his voice softer and more fearful.

This time, Uncle Vernon noticed him and spun around. His face was purple with rage. Uncle Vernon yelled, "What's wrong? _WHAT'S WRONG_? _YOU_ ARE WHAT'S WRONG! You're not normal, boy. You're a freak with magic."

"Vernon!" Aunt Petunia stood up.

"Well, I'm right aren't I?" Uncle Vernon sniped. "Magic isn't normal. It isn't for people like us or our Dudley!"

"Vernon..."

"I opened up my home to the boy on the assurance that he wasn't a freak like his father."

"HE IS THE STILL THE SAME BOY WHETHER OR NOT HE HAS MAGIC!"

Uncle Vernon stilled and stared incredulously at Aunt Petunia. Harry backed away; he had never seen his uncle and aunt fight before. He could feel the tension in the air stifling him, and though he wanted to escape, Harry could not help but stay helplessly in place and watch their battle continue.

"Harry," Aunt Petunia continued. "Is the same boy you raised with your ideals. He has taken your advice to heart and though we never showered him with affection, he has done nothing but live out his life."

"Petunia..."

"No, Vernon. It's not about magic or not. We knew that one day this would happen and it's time we simply accept that. You and I don't have to like it, but that's just how it is."

Uncle Vernon sighed and nodded. He turned to Harry, patiently standing and staring down at the floor. "Boy, let it be clear that I hate everything that has to do with magic. If you want to go to this school, that means I'm cutting off all ties with you. You may continue to live in my home until the time comes when you become an adult. When that happens, I never want to see you again. In fact, I'll even give you the money for whatever supplies you may need. Understand?"

Harry solemnly nodded.

"Good." Uncle Vernon turned to Aunt Petunia. "I'm going to work."

As Harry watched Uncle Vernon leave for his job and Aunt Petunia going into the kitchen, Harry felt surprisingly calm over the whole incident. In a way, Harry was not surprised that everything turned out like this. He knew that neither Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia loved him. They never gave him any sign that he was something more to them than a stranger. Harry knew that eventually Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would cut off all ties to him, but he never expected it to be happening so soon.

But one question sprang up to mind when he walked back to his room. Had his parents been magical too?

* * *

><p>Hermione was, at the moment, either about to spill tears or was about to crush Harry in her bear-like hug. She chose to do both. Squealing with joy, Hermione reached out and wrapped Harry in a tight grip, ignoring his protests as she squeezed him harder and harder. After she finally let go, her lips formed a huge smile and her eyes gleamed with the utmost happiness.<p>

"I can't believe you're a wizard!" Hermione shouted. "You know what this means?" As Harry opened his mouth to answer, Hermione swiftly interrupted him. "It means that we get to go to Hogwarts together! Neither of us would have to be somewhere alone! Oh, Harry! This is fantastic!" And thus, another hug from Hermione commenced.

Despite his aversion of being nearly squeezed by his best friend, Harry did not mind. His silent face gave way to a small smile as he patted Hermione on the back. He was happy as well. After the incident with his relatives, Harry dressed himself for the day and quickly went to Hermione's house. Her parents were at their practice, but they recently deemed that Hermione was mature enough to handle herself at home alone.

"But why didn't you have someone from Hogwarts come visit you? Why did you only just got a letter?" Hermione asked him.

Harry shrugged and said, "It's just a theory, but I think my parents were magical. Or at least, one of them was. My uncle said something about my dad being one."

Hermione frowned, she knew the story of how Harry's father abandoned him when he was a baby after his mother's death.

"If that is true," Hermione continued on. "Then how are you going to get to Diagon Alley and get your school supplies? It doesn't look like anyone from Hogwarts is going to come help you any time soon."

"Um, if it isn't too much to ask, can't I come with you when that person from Hogwarts comes show you and your parents?"

"Oh! I nearly forgot about that! I'll ask my mum and dad, I'm sure they won't mind, Harry. Are your relatives coming with you?"

Harry's smile drifted and the mask he have always worn before reappeared. "No, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia don't like magic. They are giving me money though, for supplies and all."

Hermione felt it in her to rant about how irresponsible his relatives were, but knew it wasn't her place. Though they never talked about it, Hermione was sure that Harry's relatives merely tolerated him. Instead of replying, she nodded and promised to speak to her parents about Harry coming with them on the upcoming shopping trip to the magical world.

* * *

><p>A few days later, the weekend started. It was Saturday morning and Harry and Hermione waited patiently for the arrival of the Hogwarts staff member that would help them. Charlotte and Nathan were surprised that Harry turned out to be a wizard, but accepted it as fact, grateful that they weren't sending their only daughter off alone for the next several months. If Harry was going, they could trust that Hermione would not be lonely while she was there.<p>

"When did you say the person would be arriving, Hermione?" Harry asked her, growing bored waiting.

"Soon, Harry. Just be patient. Besides, the letter said to specifically watch the fireplace." Hermione told him sighing, growing bored as well but was determined to show that she was patient.

Harry and Hermione turned back to the fireplace in the living room, both wondering what exactly was the significance of watching the fireplace. Their answer was promptly answered as suddenly, the fireplace came to life, the wood inside burning with a fluorescent, green fire that roared with intensity. Harry and Hermione jumped back, frightened by the sudden appearance of the raging flames. However, just as the two of them were about to run off and call Hermione's parents, a figure stepped out of the fire.

It was a man – at least, that's what Harry and Hermione thought. He was diminutive, sporting a height slightly shorter than Harry and Hermione. He wore small, round spectacles that rested lazily on his nose. He had well-groomed, black hair with a small, thin mustache on his upper lip. The man wore impeccable clothing, a tailored suit that looked to like a cross between a regular business suit and robes. However, despite his rather strange appearance, the man had gentle eyes and a kind smile.

The man noticed Harry and Hermione gawking at him. It amused him greatly as he chuckled merrily at their flabbergasted state. From behind the two students, the Grangers entered the living room to see what was the commotion about and noticed the short man as well. Like Harry and Hermione, the gawked. After all, a strange man entered their home and their fireplace was somehow sporting green flames.

"Good morning!" The man greeted. "Pardon my intrusion, I am Filius Flitwick, Charms Professor of Hogwarts and Ravenclaw Head of House. I have to come to assist you in entering the magical world and answer any questions you may have."

The four continued to stare, but it was Hermione that broke out of the stupor first. Striding passed Harry, she moved forward and held out her hand to shake the professor's. In a friendly but polite manner, Hermione introduced herself, "Good morning, Professor Flitwick. I'm Hermione Granger, it's good to meet you." She then waved her hand to her parents. "These are my parents, Nathan and Charlotte Granger. They're dentists and they run their own practice."

"Er, hi." Nathan greeted awkwardly.

"How do you do?" Charlotte smiled graciously, being much smoother than her husband.

Professor Flitwick smiled graciously and took Hermione's offer to shake hands. He then eyed Harry, who had yet to be introduced. "Is that your brother, Miss Granger?"

Hermione blushed, reprimanding herself for forgetting about Harry. She shook her head and said, "No, that's my friend, Harry Potter. He just got a letter that he was a wizard, but no one from Hogwarts came to tell him about it. He thinks that one of his parents had been magical, so he didn't get the special introduction reserved for muggle-borns."

"I...see." Professor Flitwick remarked uneasily, his eyes wavering but never leaving Harry's. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry."

"You as well, professor." Harry replied evenly as he wondered why the diminutive teacher was staring at him as if he was a spectacle from the zoo. He felt awkward with the way Professor Flitwick's eyes were boring down upon him. It wasn't as if he had done anything particularly bad. It wasn't his fault that he had been raised by muggles. If the Dursleys hated magic so much, of course they wouldn't have told him about it to begin with.

"Professor!" Hermione called for Professor Flitwick's attention. The teacher in question turned and faced Hermione whose face was contorted into contemplation. As soon as she had the professor's direct attention, Hermione began grilling the Charms professor. "How were you able to come here through the fireplace? What is Charms? Are there anymore professors at Hogwarts? What are the professors there like? What do you mean you're the Ravenclaw Head of House? What do you mean by Houses? Is there more than one? What's Ravenclaw like?"

Fortunately for Professor Flitwick, Charlotte Granger decided to save him from her daughter's tendency to ask numerous questions at once. "Hermione, dear, allow the poor professor to be settled before you ask any more questions."

Hermione's cheeks tinged pink and she stopped her questioning. She mumbled an apology and stepped back away from Professor Flitwick with whom she had been nearing dangerously closer the more she asked her questions. Harry was merely amused by his friend's behavior, but hadn't felt the need to stop her. He had the same questions as Hermione as well as several more that he wanted to ask.

Professor Flitwick smiled, clearly amused by Hermione's eagerness. "I must say, your enthusiasm in the pursuit of knowledge is well-met, Miss Granger. Now, instead of simply answering your first question, how about I simply show you? Will that be permissible?"

Hermione naturally nodded her head enthusiastically. Taking some sort of powder from a bag inside his pockets, Professor Flitwick threw it into the fireplace and once again, the green flames arose. Harry, Hermione, and the Grangers were introduced to the Floo Network.

* * *

><p>Harry nearly stumbled as he passed through the fireplace. He managed to catch himself on his right foot, saving himself from embarrassment. Behind him, Hermione was not as lucky and she tripped forward, sending the two of them toppling onto the floor. Nathan and Charlotte followed in behind her and the parents chuckled at the hilarious position Harry and Hermione found themselves in.<p>

"Hermione." Harry sighed. "I would appreciate it if you get off me."

"Oh my, are you children alright?" Professor Flitwick asked worriedly.

Harry and Hermione helped one another up. Harry felt a bruise forming where Hermione's elbow had hit him on the back, but overall, he was fine. Hermione was largely unharmed, having used Harry as the cushion that broke her fall.

"That was brilliant." Hermione's father said with a laugh. "Charlotte, love, can you believe this is happening? We just traveled through a fireplace of all things!"

Hermione's mother rolled her eyes at her husband. "Nathan, relax. Who is the adult here?"

Harry and Hermione took note of the place that they found themselves in. Their destination had been the Leaky Cauldron and from what they have seen, it looked largely squalor then that they were led to believe. Although it wasn't necessarily dirty, it was clear that the entire building was in major need of modernization. The two prospective Hogwarts students felt like they had stepped back into time a century ago.

"Good morning, Professor Flitwick!" A man from the bar greeted. He was fairly old with a lot of wrinkles and a very bald head. The man smiled warmly, but there was no teeth in his gums. "Oh, new students? Coming to show them Diagon Alley, eh?"

Professor Flitwick nodded and waved kindly at the barman. "Indeed I am, Tom. I'm sorry that I can't stop to chat. We have to beat the morning rush and all!"

Tom shook his head dismissively. "It's alright, friend! Go on along." He turned to Harry and Hermione. "It must be exciting, isn't it?"

"Oh, definitely!" Hermione enthusiastically responded. "It's simply unbelievable! I -"

"Hermione, let's go." Harry interrupted her. Tapping her shoulder mid-conversation. He pointed at Professor Flitwick and her parents who were already moving towards the rear of the pub, their attention focused on one another as Harry heard Hermione's mother ask Professor Flitwick about the school he taught in.

"I'm sorry, Tom, but I have to go! It was nice meeting you!"

Harry and Hermione caught up to Professor Flitwick to find him tapping his wand against an arrangement of bricks. Once he finished, Professor Flitwick turned around and grinned slyly. The bricks began to suddenly rearrange themselves. All of them toppled backwards, seemingly disappearing into nothing as light beamed through the open cracks. A large archway was formed, revealing a place Harry and Hermione could never have imagined.

The scene before them bore witness to a myriad of colors. Various buildings simply contrasted as colors of all sorts mixed and matched together. Some were even glowing and some were changing every second! There was a wide assortment of restaurants, shops, and other sights packed close to one another in a phantasmal array. Harry and Hermione noticed that some buildings were shaped in a way that didn't seem physically possible! On the cobblestone streets, there was a huge crowd hustling to and from businesses. Nearly all of them were garbed in robes with flashy colors. There were even children wearing shirts that had movable pictures on them. The wide cast of shoppers were as diverse as the shopping district they found themselves in.

Needless to say, Harry and Hermione were breathless.

Professor Flitwick smirked and said, "Welcome to Diagon Alley!"

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: After some careful research, it's quite apparent that there are actually a lot of people that are part of the staff in Hogwarts. You can't simply expect the small cast of teachers that we see in the books and the movies to be able to effectively govern the entire student body. I had thought about using an original character to be the Muggle Liaison, but I felt that a lot of readers would dislike that. Still, we needed someone who could explain things to the Grangers and Harry. So, I used Lucinda. Overall, the chapter was great to write. The only difficulty that I had was the part with Filius Flitwick. He is a character that I have never used before, but I wanted to see if I could. My favorite scene, however, was Harry and the Dursleys getting the Hogwarts Acceptance Letter. I think it's a bit different from the norm and I try to break from the expected sequence of events that the fandom usually takes on the subject. Not because I'm a rebel without a cause, but as a reader myself, I think it's time we have some new material, yes?

We also get to see more of the personalities of Harry and Hermione. I try my best to write in subtlety, but I often worry on whether or not I was successful. The Harry and Hermione that I envision are so similar to their original counterparts, yet they are vastly different at the same time. It is my task as the writer to cultivate that and it troubles me completely if I am unable to bring about what I wanted to show.

Anyway, in the next chapter, Harry will be obtaining his title as Lord Black. Also, no, the goblins are not honorable warriors. They're bankers. Creatures far worse than Voldemort at his prime.


	4. Harry versus Gringotts

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: At first, I didn't want to write this chapter. It felt like I was going to be writing the same old chapter that other authors have written before. However, I realized, why did it have to be that way? I'm the author, I can write whatever I want! So, I did. It actually became a lot of fun writing this chapter and I hope everyone else would have a fun time reading it. My only regret that there wasn't enough Hermione in this chapter, but that is alright! We get to see how devilishly brilliant Harry can be.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter III<strong>

**Harry versus Gringotts**

Gringotts Bank was an intriguing place, especially for a group consisting of a muggle-born, a muggle-raised, and two muggles. On the outside, it appeared as an imposing snow-white, multi-storied, marble building situated between Diagon Alley and a street leading to what was known as Knockturn Alley. Professor Flitwick described Gringotts Wizarding Bank to be the only bank that the good citizens of Magical Britain used to store away their precious valuables. With such an impressive responsibility, Harry and Hermione expected a building far grander than the one they found themselves in front of.

When Hermione voiced this observation, Professor Flitwick only gave her an enigmatic smile.

Once they stepped through the entrance of the bank, Harry, Hermione, and the Grangers were simply blown away by how large the interior truly was. The Entrance Hall alone was as large as the entire building itself! When asked, Professor Flitwick explained that it was magic that enabled many buildings within Diagon Alley to be much larger than the exterior would suggest. Once again, the concept of magic very much amazed all those that were present.

"Incredible!" Hermione muttered breathlessly as she marveled the intricately decorated Entrance Hall. Various pillars were carved with beautiful designs of warrior-like beings battling against larger foes. The floor was polished without a speck of dirt anywhere to suggest that it was ever used.

Professor Flitwick smiled. "Indeed, Miss Granger. The goblins always try their best to impress any and all potential clients."

"Goblins?" Charlotte asked. "You mean like in those fairy tales?"

"That is correct!" Professor Flitwick agreed proudly. "While goblins and wizards have not always had the best of relationships – what with Goblin Rebellions – the goblins provide the grand service of ensuring that the valuables left in their care are to be guarded with the utmost security. Gringotts holds such a grand reputation that many banks in competition have been driven out from the British Isles, leaving Gringotts unopposed here."

"Wait," Nathan interrupted. "Doesn't that mean that Gringotts has the monopoly here? Who is to stop the bank from completely controlling your economy?"

"That is an excellent question and a common one I often hear from the parents of muggle-borns. While it is true that Gringotts has immense power in wizarding economy, there are regulations put into place by the British Ministry of Magic to ensure that no such thing will occur. It is often the cause between tensions between goblins and wizards. You also must understand the nature of goblins, they are a group of people who holds different values from their wizard counterparts."

"Wow, Professor Flitwick! You know a lot about the goblins." Hermione complimented.

"Well, I should! After all, I have some goblin blood in me!" Professor Flitwick proudly proclaimed.

Professor Flitwick led them further into Gringotts, entering the Main Hall of the bank where the business would take place. Upon entrance, Harry immediately understood the connection between Professor Flitwick and the goblins. Like him, the goblins were as short in stature. However, unlike the professor, the goblins had far more menacing and sharp features. Their noses and ears were pointed. They had dark, slanted eyes that created a natural glower. They were mostly bald, but Harry noticed some had facial hair.

Immediately, Harry didn't trust them.

For as long as he could remember, one of Uncle Vernon's most commonplace complaints were about bankers. Harry never understood much, but Uncle Vernon often ranted how banks were designed to ensure that they get as much money from their clients as much as possible. Dinner was often filled with tirades on how bankers wanted nothing more than to take his well-earned money. Uncle Vernon would often tell both he and Dudley never to trust a banker. Though Harry was considered by his peers – especially Hermione – that he was far more clever than the average boy his age, he knew he was ignorant with many things. If Uncle Vernon advised him to not to trust bankers, Harry had to trust he knew what he was talking about. Even if he was ill-tempered and was recently unveiled as a bigot against all things magic, Harry still looked up to the man who had opened up his home.

Unfortunately, as Harry silently attended to his musings, he had failed to notice that the Grangers and Professor Flitwick was gone. He quickly looked about his surroundings, trying to catch a glimpse of them. However, there was too many people mulling about in the busy bank that it was hard to see where anyone was at. It didn't help that there were several people wearing various cloaks that obscured much of his vision. Given the circumstances, it would have been natural to panic, but Harry kept his calm. Though his heart raced nervously at being alone in an unfamiliar place, he reminded himself to remain focused.

Silently, Harry began inspecting the area again. He caught sight of an elevated desk at the far end of the hall. Harry surmised that whoever was behind that desk was important. He quickly set off in that direction. As he left his previous position, a group cloak-wearing people dispersed, revealing the Grangers and Professor Flitwick standing in line as they talked animatedly with one another. The Grangers' questions were more than enough to keep Professor Flitwick's attention.

As Harry neared the tall desk, he noticed the golden nameplate bolted on the front. It read: Head Goblin. Harry gazed upward and spotted a goblin that looked considerably older than the others he had seen. His long fingers were wrapped around a quill of some sort and he was busily scratching onto something Harry couldn't see. Harry nonchalantly raised his arms and waved up at him.

"Excuse me. Head Goblin, sir?" Harry politely called out to him.

The scratching stopped. The Head Goblin peered its head downward, casting a glance at Harry. His lips were set in a perpetual frown, making it hard to read his expression. The Head Goblin sighed and asked, "Yes?"

"I'm lost." Harry stated simply. "I got separated from the people I was with."

The Head Goblin glowered and laid his quill down. He reached forward and gripped the edges of his desk, giving Harry more of a glimpse of his long, pointed fingers.

"Your name?"

"Harry." He replied calmly. "Harry James Potter."

The change was instantaneous. Harry watched the Head Goblin's eyes widened and his nostrils flaring. Suddenly, the Head Goblin smiled, baring his large fang-like teeth. Interestingly, Harry was not at all intimidated, but he did grow suspicious at the sudden mood shift.

"Why, of course I would help!" The Head Goblin pleasantly stated. "GRIPHOOK!"

A goblin seated at a lower desk not too far away from the Head Goblin's desk immediately stood up at attention. He faced Harry and the Head Goblin, his body rigged with alert.

"Yes, Head Goblin, sir?" Griphook respectfully asked.

"Please take this young man to Conference Room #4."

"Of course!" Griphook eagerly agreed. He moved from his workstation, walking past Harry. "Follow me."

Harry was conflicted. He often remembered the little rule the teachers always told them, 'Don't follow strangers.' However, was it even applicable in this situation? After all, he had asked the Head Goblin for help. Despite his misgivings with bankers in general, it was a common enough method of retrieval. Employees would often take a lost child to somewhere safe – like the break room or some announcement booth – where the parents or guardians could pick up the child. So, against his better judgment, Harry followed after Griphook.

In contrast to the Head Goblin, Griphook looked far more feeble than his superior. His hair, while silver, still had traces of dark brown amongst its strands, leaving Harry to assume that he was much younger than the goblin he had spoken to. He walked in a self-important gait, with his back slightly hunched as he hobbled forward. Earlier, when he had past by him, Harry briefly observed a glance of contempt in the goblin's eyes. From the moment he had laid eyes on Griphook, Harry knew he couldn't trust him.

Luckily, their time together would only be short-lived. After walking down a hallway away from the the Main Hall, they had arrived in front of a pair of ornately-designed double doors. The goblin reached for the door handle and pulled it, opening the door for Harry. Gruffly, Griphook commanded him, "Wait in here."

With nary having time to reply, Harry was pushed into the conference room rudely. Frowning, Harry turned to glare at the goblin but found the door already closed. Having missed his chance to complain, Harry turned his attention away from the rude Griphook and into the new room he was in.

Conference Room #4 was very spacious to the point that it felt practically empty. The walls were made of marble, the same material as the building, but there were various murals carved into the stone. It reminded Harry of the Entrance Hall earlier. In the center of the room was a long, wooden table completely bolted to the floor. Like the walls, there were intricate designs of goblins and wizards. There was two chairs seated across from one another at the table, both of which were made completely out of stone. Harry sat on the one facing the door and found, to his surprise, that it was quite comfortable than it had appeared to be.

Harry sighed, regretting losing sight of the Grangers and Professor Flitwick. While it was not a common occurrence, Harry had to admit that he had a penchant for wandering off at the most inopportune moments. He remembered plenty of times while on field trips that he went off on his own because something else had caught his eye. Granted, it was to satiate his intellectual curiosity, but nevertheless, he garnered that reputation as a wanderer. Hopefully, Hermione wouldn't be too harsh on him once she found him again. Her punches could hurt.

Suddenly, the double doors opened in a raucous bang. Harry jumped in his seat, surprised by the abrupt entrance. Striding into the room, followed by the Head Goblin and two others that were covered from head to toe in the red uniform of the guards he had seen protecting the bank's entrance, was a goblin garbed in what looked like a very expensive business outfit. Harry had once seen his Uncle Vernon come home in a freshly bought suit that he bragged having cost him a quarter of his monthly salary. It was very nice and sharp, and Harry couldn't help but compare and contrast that and the goblin's outfit.

"Greetings, Lord Black. Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice." The sharp-dressed goblin said as he took a seat on the chair across from him. He smirked. "Well, you're not quite a lord just yet, but that's why I'm here."

Harry stared at the goblin. Lord? He was definitely no lord. As far as he knew, he was simply Harry James Potter, abandoned son of James Potter and the late Lily Potter. With this in mind, Harry said, "I think you have me mistaken for someone else. I'm not Lord Black or... well... anyone really."

The sharply-dressed goblin raised one of his brows. "Are you not Harry James Potter? Son of James Potter and the late Lily Potter?"

Harry briefly wondered if the sharply-dressed goblin could read minds. "Um, yes I am. Why?"

"Then you are exactly the person I wanted to meet!" The sharply-dressed goblin answered. "You are an important guest to Gringotts and it is about time that you finally step into our grand halls to claim your inheritance!"

"Wait, inheritance?" Harry sputtered, more shocked than anything. "Are you sure you're not mistaken?"

"Gringotts never make mistakes when it comes to gold." The sharply-dressed goblin vehemently responded. "Your late godfather, Sirius Black, has left you, his godson, a great deal of wealth, deeds, and titles."

Sirius Black? Harry didn't even know he had a godfather, let alone a person named Sirius Black! However, this entire situation was further supporting his suspicions that his parents were magical. Thinking over it, Harry could not say that it wasn't impossible. There were several blanks about his past and God forbid his aunt and uncle would be willing to release any information. In fact, he hardly cared at all. He never felt the need or want to learn more about his parents and history. Harry was quite content with just being Harry.

"I'm sorry. I have no idea what you're talking about. Who is Sirius Black and what exactly did I inherit?" Harry asked with a roll of his eyes. "Besides, how can you be so sure that I'm the Harry James Potter you're looking for? What if I was just another bloke who just happened to have parents of the same name?"

"Records from the Ministry of Magic states that Sirius Black is your godfather. Also, years ago, he had filed a will with our bank to hand off everything he had to his name." A feral grin appeared on the sharply-dressed goblin's face. "To answer your second question, we goblins have the best security scans available. Just by simply walking past our doors would we be able to correctly guess what you had for breakfast... two weeks ago. Confirming who you are is simply child's play."

Harry had to admit, he was impressed. The thought that magic could even do something like that played on his pursuit of knowledge. Unfortunately, he had to shake away those thoughts for now. He refocused his attention on the sharply-dressed goblin and what he was saying. Frowning, Harry realized that there was no disputing with the goblins. He had to submit that he really was who they were looking for. However, Harry couldn't help but feel that this was something more than simply claiming an inheritance.

"Okay, I'll believe you that this Sirius Black fellow was my godfather and that he left me something. So, what exactly did he leave behind for me?"

"Everything that he hadn't listed to specific people. My boy, you were left behind the entire Black Family fortune and all the benefits that it comes with it!"

"Benefits?"

"Yes. If you were to claim your inheritance, all of the wealth and properties that the Black Family owns becomes yours. However, the Black Family are considered – by your government – to be a Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Your godfather, Sirius, was the head of the house and by making you his heir, you effectively inherit this position, thus becoming Lord Black."

That answered that question. Lord Black, Harry mused, that has an excellent ring to it.

"So you see, you are gaining a lot by claiming your inheritance." The sharply-dressed goblin smiled. With a wave of his hand, he gestured the Head Goblin that had been standing next to him silently the entire time to move forward. The Head Goblin placed an important-looking document and quill on the table. The sharply-dressed goblin pushed the paper forward towards Harry. "Just sign this and all that could be yours."

For a close-to-eleven-years-old boy, this was a dream come true. It was not every day that an opportunity such as this was dropped on your lap. Harry was being given wealth, prestige in a new world, and the means to carry out any ambition he wanted to pursue. Still, a voice in the back of his mind that sounded eerily similar to Hermione's voice told him to stop and think for a moment. Instead of reaching for the quill and signing the document, Harry looked up and gazed pointedly at the sharply-dressed goblin. It was just too good to be true.

"No." Harry said.

The sharply-dressed goblin's eyes widened. "No?"

Harry nodded. "No."

The sharply-dressed goblin and the Head Goblin turned to one another, talking to each other in a language Harry could not comprehend. After a few seconds, the pair stopped talking to one another and the sharply-dressed goblin turned back to Harry. He asked, "But why? You realize that you're giving up quite a hefty sum of gold do you not? Not to mention the influence you gain by being head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

Harry smirked. "Simple. This doesn't sit right with me. This is almost too good to be true. After all, I just learned that I was a wizard a few days ago and when I finally arrive at the wizarding world, I somehow managed to become rich and a master of a prestigious house?" Harry shook his head. "But what I don't understand is your motivation. This all seems to be a bit grander for a simple inheritance claiming."

"We at Gringotts treat our clients very kindly." The sharply-dressed goblin said airily. "We are merely doing you a service so that you may continue to trust us with your gold in the future."

Harry frowned at that valid reason. Still, there had to be something more than business integrity. "Until when will it be too late to claim my inheritance if I decided to change my mind and not refuse this?"

The sharply-dressed goblin grimaced. "July thirty-first."

"And where will the inheritance go to if I'm too late?"

The room fell silent. Harry studied the sharply-dressed goblin, observing the battle that was raging in his mind. The tension in the room increased, and Harry wondered if he was getting closer to the truth. The sharply-dressed goblin turned from him again, speaking to the Head Goblin in their foreign language. As they talked, Harry patiently waited by piecing together with the knowledge that he had gathered. For some reason, the goblins were eager for him to sign the document and claim his inheritance. On top of that, the deadline to claim it was on his birthday. Considering this, something that would hurt Gringotts would occur if he didn't claim the inheritance by the end of the month.

Recalling what he had learned about goblins from Professor Flitwick, Harry supposed that the only thing that would a bank like Gringotts would to lose a significant amount of money. He reasoned that if he didn't claim his inheritance by the thirty-first, then they may lose the gold and assets that his godfather had given him. However, who would the goblins lose all of that to?

The Ministry! Harry concluded. It was so simple! The relationship between the British magical government and the goblins was not the best. Considering it was the government that ordained the Black Family to be the Noble and Most Ancient House that it is, they are within legal rights to absorb the assets that the Black Family has if there is no heir. However, there was a flaw in that theory. Harry had no idea about the laws that governed the magical realm. This was all based on supposition. Still, it was clear. The goblins wanted him to inherit so that they may continue to use the gold that the Black Family holds.

Thank goodness I listen to my uncle. Harry thought. The advice and rants garnered from Uncle Vernon was certainly paying off. Thinking over it, Harry realized he held a significant advantage over the goblins. He was the one in control and he was the one that could make the demands. Truthfully, Harry didn't care about being Lord Black or obtaining the family's fortune. His aunt and uncle already promised to support him through his schooling at Hogwarts and while the influence would be nice, Harry was confident he would be able to rise through this new and wonderful world all on his own.

"Okay." Harry loudly said, catching the goblins' attention. "I'll claim the inheritance."

"Excellent!" The sharply-dressed goblin gleefully exclaimed. "I am pleased you have come to your senses."

Harry gazed at the sharply-dressed goblin with a hint of mischief in his brilliant, green eyes of his as smiled slyly. It was time to put his bluff to the test and see if it would work. "Of course, before I do, I want to make some demands for my compliance."

The sharply-dressed goblin glared at him as he shouted, "Demands? What makes you think you can make a demand from us, wizard?"

"Simple." Harry met his glare with an aloof stare. "I don't have much to lose here, only to gain. If I refuse to claim and wait until the deadline, my life continues as normal. However, as for Gringotts, the bank will no doubt lose a great deal of money. Everything that is supposed to be for me would be in the hands of a certain other organization that you goblins strongly dislikes. Am I right so far?"

Harry smiled innocently.

If looks could kill, the frightening glower of the sharply-dressed goblin would have killed him already. The two stared at one another as silence reigned Conference Hall #4. Harry pondered if it was unwise to have made enemies already in this fascinating new world he was introduced to, but then again, the goblins deserved it for trying to trick him. Granted, Harry knew they weren't trying to trick him, but he knew that they were simply giving him the minimum of what they could give.

"Fine." The sharply-dressed goblin finally said, breaking the tense silence. "We can work out a... deal... so to speak. What do you want?"

Now that was something he hadn't thought through. What did he want? He was already obtaining wealth and a title, what more could he need? His thoughts drifted to his father and his relatives. Though Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would be bragging to the neighbors he would be attending a prestigious private school in Scotland, they had largely disowned him. Nevertheless, they were still legally his guardians. He didn't want that. He didn't want to be confined by the law. As for his father...

"Independence." Harry stated, looking directly into the yellow eyes of the sharply-dressed goblin. "I don't care how you do it, but I want to be emancipated. Both in the magical world and in the non-magical."

The sharply-dressed goblin nodded. "Very well, anything else?"

"I want you to change my last name to Black. I want every record and file that I has my last name as Potter to be changed into my new name." Harry grinned cheekily. "I'm not a Potter anymore."

Harry never felt any pride for being a Potter. It had always evoked the feelings of loneliness and betrayal that Harry believed was caused by the abandonment of his father. If his father didn't want him, why would he even want his name? He had always planned to change his name, but he hadn't expected he would be given the chance to do so before he was eighteen. Taking on the mantle as a Black would definitely work. However, be that as it may, he would not change his middle name. Though it was his father's name, it would serve as a symbol to remind him of his motivations to be determined to make something of himself.

"That can be arranged. Is that all?"

"Nope." The sharply-dressed goblin groaned. "I want three favors."

"Three favors?"

Harry chuckled. "Yes, three favors. In the future, if there is ever a time I need the goblins to help me with something that I either don't want to pay for or is not a service that Gringotts provides, I want to have three instances to do so."

"That is too much!" He growled. "While we are powerful and firmly believe that wealth is power, there are some lines we goblins simply cannot cross!"

"Alright." Harry conceded. It was never his intention to have three to begin with. "How about just one then?"

The sharply-dressed goblin once again stared ferociously at Harry but soon nodded his head. "That is acceptable."

"Then we have a deal?"

"You are correct."

The sharply-dressed goblin took back the document and quill, handing it over to the Head Goblin. Harry then witnessed another display of magic as the document was suddenly basked in a ray of white light. The Head Goblin placed the document back on the table, sliding it over to Harry for him to sign. He looked over it, attempting to understand some of the legal jargon that the document contained.

Harry looked up from his reading and asked, "You're not tricking me are you?"

The two goblins sighed. The sharply-dressed goblin raised his right arm and declared, "I swear on my honor that I am not tricking you." As soon as he said those words, his arm shined briefly erupted in an explosion of bright light.

Harry gaped. "What was that?"

"That was a Goblin's Oath. By swearing on our honor, we are magically-contracted to do as we said. If I am truly tricking you, then I will die here on the spot once you sign it."

Though Harry was still rightly suspicious, there was something in his eyes that told him that he was telling the truth. Realizing he was just being overly cautious, Harry raised the quill and signed his name on the dotted line. He felt a slight irritation on the back of his hand and watched as a trickle of blood dripped from a small wound. Harry frowned at the goblins. "Why am I bleeding?"

"That is because you are using a blood quill. It is rarely used and only when dealing with very important contracts." The sharply-dressed goblin took back the document and quill. He signed the document and Harry noticed that the back of his hand bled a little bit as well.

The document was handed over to the Head Goblin and was promptly stamped with a seal that had the Gringotts insignia. The Head Goblin then rolled up the document and, to Harry's amazement, promptly disappeared. The sharply-dressed goblin stood up from his seat, his gaze never leaving Harry.

"Our business is over. Your... demands..." The sharply-dressed goblin snarled. "...will be finished in the next few days." He gestured at the Head Goblin. "Please give him a cheque book for his current account and the key to his vault. Also, escort him to his group. I will be resting in my office. This has been an... ordeal."

As the sharply-dressed goblin began to leave, Harry removed himself from his seat and called out to him, "Wait! I haven't caught your name, sir."

The goblin stopped and craned his neck facing Harry. "You're right, how rude of me. I am Gringott, Director of Gringotts Wizarding Bank and current successor of its founder and my ancestor, Gringott. Now, good day to you."

With that said, Gringott left Conference Room #4 with his guards in tow. The Head Goblin pulled out a cheque book from out of nowhere, once again generating awe in Harry with a display of magic, and handed it to him. As Harry pocketed the cheque book, the Head Goblin already began his stride to exit the room. Harry hurriedly follow, more than relieved that he was finally leaving. He couldn't wait to return to Hermione and tell her what transpired!

Harry was led back towards the Head Goblins where he found Hermione, the Grangers, and Professor Flitwick waiting with worried expressions on their faces. As he finally came into view, Hermione bolted from her parents and wrapped her arms around Harry. Her grip was still strong as ever and Harry strained to breathe.

"Harry, you incorrigible git!" Hermione exasperatedly began. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? Honestly, getting lost here of all places? It's not exactly like we can walk around freely like we do at home! We don't know anything about the -"

"Hermione, love." Hermione's father gently called. "I think Harry needs to breathe."

Embarrassed, Hermione blushed and released her hold on Harry. Harry shot a grateful look over at Nathan who responded with a knowing smile. Charlotte rushed over as soon as her daughter and gave Harry a fierce hug that could rival Hermione's.

"Oh, Harry, don't walk off like that!" She chastised him softly.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Granger." Harry apologized. At the corner of his eye, he spotted Professor Flitwick conversing with the Head Goblin. From the little tidbits he strained to hear, the Head Goblin didn't divulge any information about what transpired while he was gone. The two finished talking and the Head Goblins returned to his desk.

As Charlotte removed herself from Harry, Professor Flitwick approached him with a warm smile but a disapproving gaze. "My boy, it was extremely unwise of you to wander off like that. Just like in the world you came from, children like you can easily be abducted if you aren't careful!"

Harry bowed his head in understanding. "I'm sorry, Professor. I just wanted to use the loo."

"I plead you inquire me the next time that you need to." Professor Flitwick sighed. "I am your guide and it is my responsibility."

"Okay."

"Good, I'm glad you understand."

With the reprimanding over, Professor Flitwick proposed that it was time to start shopping for school supplies. Harry was thankful that he left the money the Dursleys had given him for supplies with the Grangers, they probably had already converted his money into the wizarding world's currency. As he walked behind the adults, he felt his hand grasped behind him. Turning his neck, Harry saw Hermione watching him peculiarly.

"I know you didn't go to the loo, Harry." Hermione whispered, quiet enough so that the Grangers and Professor Flitwick couldn't hear. "What really happened?"

Harry knew he couldn't get anything by Hermione. It had been a struggle to hide his feelings of jealousy when he had believed he wasn't magical, but somehow, he knew that Hermione had been aware of his emotions and that she simply didn't comment on it. However, Harry could trust Hermione with anything. Leaning in closer to her, Harry said into her ear, "Something amazing! I'll tell you later."

Though Hermione was not happy about it, she understood and acquiesced his request. She never would have imagined that her cunning best friend had somehow managed to outsmart the Director of Gringotts!

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: Sometimes, children are the most perceptive and most cunning of all enemies. I hope you liked Harry's little duel with the Director of Gringotts. Instead of being given the title of Lord Black and all the influence and wealth it entails, I made Harry _earn_ it and then some! Honestly speaking, I'm starting to fall in love with this Harry. He is clearly on his way to becoming one of the best magnificent bastards ever to exist in literature of some form. Well, hopefully. Anyway, please tell me if you liked it or disliked it! I can never be too sure if the readers would enjoy something like this, ha ha.


	5. Great Things to Expect

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: A good friend of mine was reading over this story. She drew up a comparison between my Harry and another fictional character named Artemis Fowl. If you're unfamiliar with who he is, then allow me to enlighten you. Artemis Fowl is a magnificent bastard, a criminal mastermind, and in the first book of his tale, he was only twelve at the time. Granted, the Harry I'm writing is nowhere close to the level of intelligence that Artemis displayed, I like to think he is just as resourceful given with what he has and shows more compassion and empathy.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter IV<strong>

**Great Things to Expect**

Hermione Granger had always been a pursuer of knowledge. She was known to read a plethora of books and would forever be excited at the prospect of learning something new. Her current quest for information was attempting to persuade her best friend to part with the memory of what transpired when they were in the bank. She was unsuccessful. With each attempt to ask Harry what happened, he would remain mum and simply smirk at her enigmatically, mouthing, "Later." She had never been more frustrated in all her life. Well, except for that time a few years ago when her parents refused to tell her where babies come from. She knew now, but her parents' refusal at the time made her nearly throw a tantrum.

Aside from her current chagrin over Harry's suave avoidance of the bank topic, Hermione was enjoying her immersion to the unique yet strange culture of the magical world before her. There were a lot of things that she found strange and illogical when Professor Flitwick explained some of the general workings of the community at large, but Hermione knew she couldn't apply her and Harry's common sense into a place that was so unlike than what they were accustomed to. There were even some things that made sense. For example, witches and wizards didn't adopt electrical devices – Professor Flitwick excitedly proclaimed that he was one of rare few wizards who actually had a general understanding of electricity and electronics – due to the fact that magic simply interfered with such objects, rendering them useless.

As odd and unaccustomed everything the magical world was to her, Hermione could accept the new world given that she had her best friend, Harry, at her side. However, as she turned to her parents whom were in rapt attention with the diminutive professor, Hermione curiously wondered what her parents thought of all this. They were not magical and as she thought about it, Hermione realized that there would be some things that her parents would never understand. All Hermione could ever hope for from her parents would be their acceptance of having a magical daughter and being there to support her with every step she took into magic.

Hermione felt a hand on her shoulders and craned her neck to see Harry squeezing her gently. He rubbed his thumb soothingly and gave her one of his reassuring smiles before returning back to his inexpressive demeanor. Her annoyance over him faded, having washed away by the relief she felt over Harry's comfort. She was so thankful to have a best friend like him, he always inexplicably knew when something was upsetting her and was always there whenever she needed the company.

"Ah-ha! There it is! _Flourish and Blotts_! This is a bookstore where we would acquire your schoolbooks!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed as they stopped in front of an old, but nicely kept shop where various adults and children were entering and exiting. "Now before we go in I -"

Before Professor Flitwick could finish, Hermione let out a cry of pure excitement and immediately bolted inside like a bat out of hell. Harry covered his mouth to stifle the gut-wrenching laughter that was threatening to spill. Beside him, he spotted the Grangers sporting knowing smiles, shaking their heads in amusement over their daughter's behavior.

"Oh my!" Professor Flitwick expressed, clearly surprised. "Is Miss Granger always like this when it comes to books?"

Nathan chuckled. "My daughter gets a little... _excited_ when it comes to them. It was a trait that she inherited from me. We should get inside, Professor Flitwick, before she clears out the whole shop of their books!"

As Harry started following after Hermione's father and Professor Flitwick inside, he stopped when he felt Charlotte touch his shoulder briefly. He stopped, turning to her with an inquiring eyebrow.

"Harry, would you like to help me get a gift for Hermione?" Charlotte asked him grinning. "This would be a perfect time to do so while she and Nathan are busy with their books."

Harry simply nodded, but expressed his enthusiasm in his eyes. "Of course, Mrs. Granger! What are you planning on getting her?"

"Well, considering you and Hermione will be off to boarding school, I think it would be appropriate if we acquire a method to communicate with each other." Charlotte led Harry to a shop a little ways across from _Flourish and Blotts_. A sign attached to the building identified it as _Eeylops Owl Emporium_. "Professor Flitwick said that owls would be the best way to stay in contact. Hermione always pestered Nathan and I about having a pet."

"I remember Hermione talking about that for months." Harry sighed. "I think she would love an owl."

"How so, Harry?"

"Aren't owls a symbol of intelligence? Considering Hermione is the smartest person I know, it certainly fits." Harry stated sincerely.

Charlotte couldn't help but smile at the compliment given to her daughter and patted Harry on the head. "Good show, Harry."

The two stepped inside the shop and they were immediately assaulted with the cacophony of awed shouts of children and loud hoots of the owls that made up the interior of the shop. Harry keenly observed that his nose hadn't picked up any of the smells that he would typically associate an animal-filled room and briefly concluded that it was the work of magic that prevented him from noticing a less-than-fresh smell.

"Oh my!" Hermione's mother cupped her chin. "There are so many. Where do we even begin?"

"Perhaps we could talk to the shopkeeper, Mrs. Granger? Maybe they would know what would be good to deliver letters." Harry looked around the room and spotted a person behind a counter trading coins with a customer. Harry tugged on Charlotte's sleeves and pointed to what he saw. "Over there!"

Hermione's mother spotted the clerk and went to talk to him. As she did so, Harry's curiosity got the better of him and he wandered off towards the owls. Curiously, Harry peered up at them from their perch, their wide eyes looking down upon him in an observant manner. Harry felt as if they were judging him, formulating their own opinion of him. It amazed Harry with how intelligent the owls were and wondered if magic attributed to their intelligence.

Among the owls though, there was one in particular that drew him in the most. The owl was perched higher than the others, its white feathers were far more well-groomed than the other birds that surrounded it. The regal stance it had taken upon itself expressed a dominant nature that cowed the lesser owls into keeping their distance. Harry was more than intrigued by the unique snowy owl before him.

Interestingly, the owl suddenly bore its attention onto Harry. With a hoot, the owl left its perch and glided towards him. As if knowing its motive, Harry tentatively raised his arm and allowed the Snowy owl to rest upon his forearm. Its claws didn't hurt, only applying pressure against his skin. The owl turned its head to face Harry then cocked its head to the side to gaze over him curiously.

"Hello there." Harry greeted the owl, smoothing over his shock.

The owl merely hooted in response and then affectionately pecked him. Harry smiled.

"What do you have here, Harry?" asked Hermione's mother as she made her way over to him with the shopkeeper in tow.

"This owl just flew to me." Harry answered.

"This bird never really took a shine to anyone until now." The shopkeeper confessed. "She's a bit older than the other owls, but she's very intelligent. Snowy owls are perfect carriers for letters and medium-sized packages."

Charlotte cupped her chin and hummed in thought. Glancing curiously at Harry and the owl, she asked him, "What do you think, Harry?"

"What do you say, girl?" Harry spoke to the owl. "Would you like to be with my friend, Hermione?"

The owl hooted and bowed her head.

"Brilliant! Smart _and_ independent! Hermione would love you!"

"We'll take the owl then." Charlotte said to the shopkeeper, beaming.

The shopkeeper nodded his head vigorously, no doubt pleased he made a sale. "Alright then! You'll get a free cage and a month's worth of owl pellets. Now, let me explain how to properly take care of an owl and..."

As the shopkeeper led Hermione's mother and Harry back to the register, Harry could only look forlornly at the proud owl. He felt a pang in his heart that he wasn't to be the owner of the beautiful animal in front of him, but Harry knew that Hermione would take care of her new owl preciously. Besides, Harry reasoned that he didn't really need an owl to begin with. It was not as if he was encouraged to remain in contact with his relatives. Nevertheless, Harry was saddened that the connection he experienced between himself and the owl would not be fostered further.

* * *

><p>Hermione was bouncing on her heels ecstatically as she stood in the magic bookstore. <em>Flourish and Blotts <em>was vastly different from any other bookstore she had been to before. Everywhere she looked, there were books strewn about. Books were lined up on the walls. They were in the numerous shelves scattered throughout the shop. Some were stacked up on tables that it nearly reached the ceiling! Normally, Hermione would have disapproved with the way the store treated books haphazardly, but her excitement easily quelled any of those thoughts for now. She was much too busy scanning the different titles that store had in its possession.

Before Hermione could speed off and delve into the wonderful land she arrived in, her father's voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Hermione!" Her father called out to her. "You shouldn't wander off on your own, especially in a place we're not familiar with." He reprimanded her sternly.

Hermione, realizing her mistake, pouted. She mumbled an apology, "Sorry."

Nathan smiled knowingly and patted his daughter on the head. "It's alright, Hermione. I know how eager you get when it comes to books. It comes from my side of the family, after all."

"Might I suggest that we collect Miss Granger's books while she explores?" Professor Flitwick suggested, his eyes twinkling in humor. "From what you tell me, Hermione would probably want more than the books on her book list."

"You're right." Nathan laughed. "Hermione, go on ahead and look around. Just don't wander off too far, okay?"

"Thank you, daddy!" Hermione nearly squealed. She wrapped her arms around her father and gave him a tight squeeze before she sped off in a random direction amongst the sea of books. She had to pick carefully on what books to get. Her father's words reminded her of the unspoken rule whenever they went into a bookstore. Hermione was only allowed five or six books for purchase.

Her mind too busy scanning through the many different tomes the establishment had, Hermione failed to observe that her mother and best friend was missing. Nevertheless, Hermione pressed on and scoured through the many sections. At the moment, she was interested in locating a book that spoke of the recent history of the magical world. When she had analyzed the book list alongside her Hogwarts acceptance letter, Hermione noticed that none of the books broached the topic of recent events. From what little Professor Flitwick explained, there was a war in Magical Britain that ended ten years ago. She was very curious about that.

As she explored _Flourish and Blotts_, Hermione noticed that there was real method of organization. There were many books of differing subjects that were all grouped together in random order. She checked some of the pages to see if some were organized by date, but she found three books next to one another that came from three separate centuries! She had immediately assumed that things would be similar like in other bookstores, but she was wholly mistaken. Hermione was growing frustrated.

Hermione ended her fruitless scouring and decided to enlist help. Eventually, she encountered a woman flicking a wand back and forth. Books from her cart was flung off it and into empty crevices within the shelves. Hermione remained rooted at her spot as she watched the display of magic. Despite the mundane expression on the witch's face, Hermione was in awe and fascination. Her mind reeled with giddiness as she was reminded that in September, she would start learning how to do the very same thing.

Shaking her head free from her admiration, Hermione scolded herself to remain on task. She approached the witch and politely asked, "Excuse me, may I have your help?"

The witch stopped and stared at the younger girl. Her eyes lingered on her the clothes that Hermione wore before responding, "Oh, of course. How may I help you?"

Her face split into a smile. Hermione made her request. "I'm looking for a book about the recent history of Britain! Professor Flitwick explained to me that _A History of Magic_ only covers history up until the eighteenth century, but I want a book that can tell me more about the modern era right now and -"

"Wait, wait. Hold on." The witch held up her hand, cutting Hermione off. Hermione blushed as she realized she was babbling on again, a habit she had been trying to curb for ages.

The witch raised her wand to her chin as she tapped it in thought. Her eyes brightened soon after and with a flick of her wand and a few words in Latin that Hermione failed to pay attention to much to her chagrin, a book flew over some of the large bookcases around them and landed into the witch's hand. Once again, Hermione was lost in awe. The witch turned to Hermione while smiling and said, "Alright, here we are. This here is _Modern Magical History_. It's the third edition that was published last year. It mostly focuses on what happened in the last one hundred years, but it does briefly touches on the nineteenth century. Is this what you're looking for?"

Hermione vigorously nodded, overjoyed that she found exactly what she wanted. In her excitement, she freed the book from the witch's grasp and eagerly began opening it. However, she soon remembered the witch in front of her and she flushed in embarrassment. Reminding herself of her manners, she thanked the witch. "Thank you for finding this for me."

The witch grinned. "It was no problem. Please take care of the book."

"Of course I will!" Hermione cried out indignantly.

The witch chuckled before she pushed the cart past Hermione, restarting her previous task before Hermione asked for her assistance. Hermione, on the other hand, continued where she had left off and opened the contents of the book. She flung the pages towards the end of the book, more curious about the war that took place recently than the events preceding it. Her eyes briefly scanned the pages, trying to find some mention of a war. It wasn't until she reached the last chapter and saw the title that she found what she had been curious to know about. It read: **The Death Eaters' War**.

It talked about the rise of an organization known as Death Eaters, formed by a malevolent man who proclaimed himself as a new Dark Lord. Hermione found no mentions of the Dark Lord's name, only finding mention of him as You-Know-Who or He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Though annoyed that the book told nothing of the Dark Lord's name, Hermione was intrigued by the discovery of the war and continued reading. The war officially began in 1970 when You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters began plotting a revolution against the Ministry of Magic.

The Death Eater organization attacked mostly muggles and muggle-born wizards and witches, proclaiming them as filth below them. They supported pure-blood supremacy – Hermione made a mental note to look up what that meant later – and thought people like Hermione and her parents to be below them. In addition to killing muggles and muggle-borns, they killed many other wizard and witches that opposed You-Know-Who or supported muggles and muggle-borns.

Hermione continued to learn that the Death Eaters attempted to destabilize the Ministry from within, resorting to blackmail or using some sort of mind-controlling spell called the Imperius Curse, one of the three Unforgivable Curses – another thing Hermione reminded herself to look up. Eventually, the war reached its apex by the late seventies when Bartemius Crouch Sr., a ministry employee, gave permission for Aurors – Hermione assumed they were the wizarding world's equivalent of the military or police force – to use the Unforgivable Curses against the Death Eaters.

Hermione felt sick to her stomach and opted to take a break from her reading. Though she had no idea what the Unforgivable Curses were exactly, the author of the book implied that they were spells so heinous and wicked that employing its use on anyone was considerably taboo. The author spoke of the Imperius Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Killing Curse. The Cruciatus Curse tortured its victims and could easily break the minds of those placed under it. Meanwhile, the Killing Curse did exactly what it said. It killed anything with just one strike. Though the author avoided directly mentioning it, Hermione was smart enough to notice what he was attempting to infer.

The Death Eaters' War was not something she had imagined. The author meticulously detailed many of the horrible events that occurred during the war. The book spoke of entire families being slaughtered and described some of the helplessness of the common folk against the Death Eaters. Hermione couldn't help but shudder at what she assumed was a dark time for everyone. Hermione couldn't blame the author for not even putting in the name of the Dark Lord that instigated it all; even today, his name was presumably feared by a majority of the population. It was silly to be afraid of a name, but Hermione understood why people reacted the way they did.

This line of thought actually had her wonder what became of You-Know-Who. It was clear that the Ministry won against the Death Eaters, otherwise no one would appear as cheerful as they are now! Hermione flipped through the pages, not wanting to read any further about the atrocities the Death Eaters and their Dark Lord committed. She soon came across another the title, **End of the War**. Hermione began reading the opening paragraphs below the title when, abruptly, she was knocked forward, dropping the book.

Hermione looked up and saw the one that had bumped into her walk away without even a word of apology. He had unruly, black hair and fair skin. He was about the same height as her, leading Hermione to believe that he was close to her age. Annoyed, Hermione grabbed him by the shoulder and harshly said, "Hey! You made me drop my book!"

The boy turned around, whipping his shoulder away from Hermione. "So? Just pick it up!"

Hermione stood stunned as she came face to face with the boy. The boy in front of her had the appearance of her best friend. In front of her was a doppelganger of Harry! _No, wait. He doesn't have his eyes_. Upon further scrutiny, Hermione saw that the boy's eyes were a dark, shimmering brown instead the sparkling, emerald ones that Harry sported. With that said, the boy was more expressive than Harry, his emotions appeared more clearly on his face than the trained features of Harry's. There was also a small scar peeking out from under his bangs on his forehead.

"Oh, great!" The boy muttered, scowling. "Another star-struck fan."

Having not forgotten her anger, Hermione's angry expression reemerged. "_Fan? _I don't even _know _you! Besides, you should apologize for bumping into me!"

"Why should I apologize? It was your fault that you were blocking the way. If you want to read your book, you should buy it instead!" The boy continued to argue back. "And how can you _not_ know me! I'm the Boy Who Lived!"

"The Boy Who Lived?" Hermione asked him, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

The boy smiled smugly. "Ha-ha! So you do know me."

Hermione shook her head fiercely. "So you're famous because you're a boy who is alive? If that's what it takes to be famous here, then I guess I can be the Girl Who Reads!"

The boy growled. "I'm famous because I was the one who destroyed You-Know-Who!"

"Right, like I'm going to believe that a little boy defeated a Dark Lord!"

"I'm _not_ little."

Hermione gave an unladylike snort, she picked up her forgotten book. "Feel free to live in your little dream world."

"Oh, I see how it is. You're a muggle-born!" The boy accused her.

Immediately, Hermione felt defensive. After reading about the Death Eaters' discrimination against muggle-borns, Hermione was on edge. However, staring into the eyes of the boy in front of her, Hermione didn't see anything that could have been construed as discrimination. Hermione concluded that he was just asking an innocent question. Regardless, Hermione remained wary. Holding _Modern Magical History_ to her chest, she calmly asked him, "What of it?"

A huge smirk of triumph appeared on his face. "In that case, I'll forgive you! My name is Henry Potter, don't forget it!"

Hermione didn't react at all to his name. She did find it amusing that not only did the boy look the same as Harry, but he also shared his last name. Potter was a common surname in England, there were plenty of other Potters at her school other than Harry. Why would it be any different in Magical Britain as well?

"Nothing, huh?" Henry frowned. He then shrugged and continued to grin, his expression was filled mischief. "Well, whatever. I have to get going, but I can't wait to see the look on your face when I see you again at Hogwarts. By then, you would realize just how stupid you acted around me."

Glaring pointedly at Henry, Hermione was about to reprimand him for even insinuating that she was anything less than intelligent when he quickly left. Hermione stared after the retreating boy and clenched her fist. With a huff, Hermione walked away in the opposite direction. She was no longer in the mood to read.

"There you are, Hermione."

Hermione turned around and found Harry briskly walking towards her. She sought out his eyes and was relieved that it was green rather than brown. Harry's doppelganger was nothing less than infuriating. She definitely didn't want to see him again any time soon. Hermione hid away her anger and smiled at Harry, "Where have you been? Have you seen all these books? They're all very fascinating!"

Harry nodded in agreement. "Definitely. By the way, we're about to leave the shop. Your dad already bought our schoolbooks and he was wondering if you have everything."

Hermione blanched. "Oh no! I forgot! Harry, tell daddy that you need to buy some books too! That way, we can get to stay here longer."

"I already handed your dad the books I wanted."

"What? You already got books?" Hermione groaned. "What did you get?"

Harry shrugged. "Just a few books about wizarding customs and etiquette as well as a book about old families in Magical Britain." His eyes fell on the book Hermione was holding. "What do you have there?"

"This book is _Modern Magical History_. It's about history from the nineteenth century to the present! Did you know that there was a war ten years ago! It was terrible and..."

The horrid boy forgotten, Hermione began her lecture about the things she learned from _Modern Magical History_.

* * *

><p>It took forty-five more minutes before Hermione was fit to leave <em>Flourish and Blotts<em>. She was almost in tears that she had to leave the bookstore without getting the five or six books she was normally promised. Hermione was only able to leave with only three books purchased. Other than _Modern Magical History_, Hermione now had _Hogwarts, a History_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_. Fortunately, Professor Flitwick mentioned all the rare and exotic tomes sequestered away in the Hogwarts Library that no other place would have a copy of. With this information, Hermione was more than pleased.

With Professor Flitwick guiding them, the Grangers and Harry made quick time with many of the purchases they needed for Harry and Hermione to be ready for Hogwarts. By the time they were on the last item of their list – the purchasing of their wands, the adult Grangers and Harry were becoming a bit tired from all the walking and shopping. Only Hermione was able to match Professor Flitwick's exuberant energy and the two often talked about what to expect when they were finally in Hogwarts.

Overall, Harry found the entire day to have been exciting. He couldn't wait until left so that he and Mrs. Granger could give the beautiful, white owl they found to Hermione. They had left her back at the shop until their departure. It wasn't practical to lug around a bird cage if they had more than a few more shops to visit. Either way, the conclusion of their time here in Diagon Alley would truly become memorable. Hermione would instantly fall in love with the owl like he had done.

They stood in front of _Ollivanders Wand Shop_. The name _Ollivanders_ was inscribed above the shop's door and windows in sparkling, golden colors. A sign hung by the entrance saying _Wand Shop_. Harry inspected the shop and noticed that it looked remarkably older than the other shops in its proximity. Upon further inspection, Harry found one reason why. Underneath _Ollivanders_, there was a small inscribing that read _Since 382 B.C._ Harry didn't want to admit that he thought that to be unbelievable, but again, the existence of magic was slowly shaping the way he was perceiving things.

Professor Flitwick sighed wistfully, an action that Harry noticed was often used when someone was lost in fond memories. "Oh, this is will be an exciting moment! You children have no idea how exhilarating it is when you receive your wand. The feeling to it is simply indescribable. If you can pardon the fun, the best way I can describe it is it being simply magical!"

"Oh, Harry! Can you believe it? Once we get our wands, we can do magic too!" Hermione announced.

Harry couldn't contain the glee he felt when Hermione said those words. This was it. With his wand, Harry would literally have the power of magic at the touch of his fingertips. There would be so many things that would now become possible. The thought of it excited him in ways that nothing before has ever done. Not trusting himself to speak, Harry could only beam and nod at Hermione. They soon followed after Professor Flitwick who entered the establishment.

Harry was the second of their party to enter the store. The interior of the wand shop was different than what Harry had imagined. It felt like they were entering a shoe story as there were many rectangular boxes placed inside cubbyholes and clustered together on shelves and stacked haphazardly on one another. There was little light coming through the windows, creating a gloomy atmosphere. In a way, the shop was exactly what Harry expected: It was old, dark, and full of dust.

In the center of an unusually pile of boxes was an old man with wide, pale eyes that gleamed like moonlight through the crestfallen atmosphere of the shop. His hair was frayed and wild, he had deep winkles across his face, indicating his age. A small smile quirked at his lips which further grew when the old man caught sight Professor Flitwick and Harry.

However, any further observation on the old man from Harry was interrupted by a strange and peculiar event. Harry was the first to notice the odd occurrence. From behind the old man – whom he assumed was Ollivander, a box on top of one of the larger stacks began glowing a bright shade of white. The light completely enveloped the room in a single instant, sending a pulse of pure magic throughout the entirety of the shop. Suddenly, the lid of the box was flown open and a wooden stick shot out of it like a bullet.

The glowing wand sped off to where Harry stood. Panicking, Harry swiftly ducked to the side to avoid the pointed catalyst. His eyes widened when he watched Hermione just enter the shop. Guilt coursed through him as he realized that the consequence of pursuing his own well-being was Hermione becoming injured. He wanted to run and push Hermione out of the way, but there wasn't enough time. But, instead of what he thought would happen, something else entirely did!

Harry watched with wide eyes as Hermione seemed to have instinctively reached her hand forward and grabbed the wand by its end while it was still in mid-air. The magical luminescence ceased. Hermione stared down at the wand in her hand, not yet quite realizing what just happened. Harry observed her blink confusedly at what occurred and he quickly concluded that Hermione had not made a conscious decision to catch the magical medium.

"Dear Merlin, what just happened?" Professor Flitwick squeaked in the aftermath of the chaos. "Miss Granger, are you alright?"

Hermione lifted her head from her inspection of the wand and turned to Professor Flitwick. "Yes, I'm fine. Um, what just happened?"

Hermione's parents stood behind her, just as shocked to have witnessed the event as well. Harry stood up from where he had retreated to and took a few steps towards Hermione, immediately curious about the wand as well.

"How curious, how very curious." Said a gentle voice from behind the stacks of boxes. Ollivander arrived at the scene, carefully approaching Hermione with a glint of wonder and amazement in his pale eyes. Harry felt annoyance over the old man's behavior. It was if the old man cared more for what happened rather than the health of the one who could have been hurt.

"You must be Ollivander?" Nathan asked. "Do you mind explaining me why a stick suddenly shot out from a box and nearly maimed my daughter and her friend?" His expression – which his wife also adopted – was one filled with rage and demand for answers.

"My apologies," Ollivander sincerely said. "That is not a common occurrence typically associated with my family's shop."

"Ollivander is quite correct, Mr. Granger." Professor Flitwick added. "I have accompanied many students getting their wands and I went to this very same shop to get mine and yet I never seen such an event in all my years!"

"Ah, Filius, how are you? Aspen, hair from a unicorn's tail. Such a wand befitted you having had been a dueling champion, hm?" Ollivander greeted the professor with a kind smile.

"Yes, it still continues to serve me well, Ollivander. Always fine craftsmanship!"

The older man chuckled and nodded. "Back to the matter at hand, then."

Ollivander maneuvered his way in front of Hermione and carefully inspected the wand she held. A beam of pride erupted on his features. "Young lady, you are in possession of a special wand. I have only made few vinewood wands over the years and you, miss, have been chosen to wield the strongest of its kind."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, confused.

The wandmaker chuckled and further elaborated, "The wand chooses the wizard – or rather, witch, in your case – and it often chooses well! Wands made of vine are more knowing of are their perfect matches. The dragon heartstring I used to make its core makes the wand very powerful. When you entered this store, the wand sensed you and it could not wait to meet its match. Such a thing has only happened twice in my shop before! You are to do great things. The potential you have is vast and this wand will help you in all of your endeavors. Whatever grand vision you have in store for us all, I predict you will succeed."

Ollivander's lengthy monologue suitably astounded all those present in the shop from the way they reacted. Professor Flitwick was shaking with pride and barely controlling his excitement. The Grangers looked floored, bewilderment being the most prominent emotion on their faces. Hermione's eyes darted side to side, obviously nervous. Harry gave Hermione a brief smile out of comfort, greatly calming her. He shared the same opinion as Ollivander with the exception that he didn't need a wand to prove that Hermione was destined to do something great in the future.

"Ollivander, do you mind if I use your facilities?" Professor Flitwick asked.

Ollivander glanced over the diminutive teacher and nodded. "Of course, Filius. Still perpetually exuberant as ever, I see."

Professor Flitwick smiled sheepishly and excused himself. Ollivander turned away from Hermione, whom had sighed in relief for being no longer under the wandmaker's scrutiny, and regarded Harry. Finally taking precise note of him for the first time, Ollivander clapped his hands together and said, "Ah yes, I have been wanting to fit you since your arrival to my shop. There is something about you I can't place. You remind me very well of a young boy five decades ago who came to this shop for the same purpose as you are." There was something about the way he phrased the words that discomforted Harry. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches, made of yew. Powerful, resilient, and great."

Ollivander took a step forward and stared at him. Harry now knew how Hermione felt to be under his gaze. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy. He hummed in thought and took out a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

Harry assumed he meant which hand he favored. "Right-handed, sir." He calmly replied.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." Ollivander soon measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. To be honest, Harry wondered if all of this was necessary to obtain a wand. If the wand chose the wizard, why couldn't his have been barreled towards him like Hermione's? It would have made things much easier.

Ollivander went on about wands and what they were made of, explaining things further in-depth than when he did with Hermione. Harry hardly listened, but he made note to ask Hermione for a repetition later. He could tell that she was in rapt attention. Ollivander flitted away to the shelves, taking down boxes. Harry's eyes widened when he saw that the measuring tape was measuring him on its own. It moved to measure his nostrils, but Harry knocked it away before it could. There were some things he would not stand.

"That will do," Ollivander said, and the tape measure fell into a heap on the floor. "Right then! Try this one. Blackthorn wood and dragon heartstring. Ten inches. Fitting for a warrior. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and waved it. Nothing happened. He waved it again. Again nothing happened. Before he could wave it another time, Ollivander snatched it from him and placed another wand in his hand.

"Hazel and unicorn hair. Eight inches. Emotional and -"

Harry waved it but nothing happened once more. He started to feel very foolish waving a piece of stick with nothing occurring. To his side, Hermione was clutching her mouth, holding herself back from giggling. He stared pointedly at her, but it didn't stop her. Even her parents started to look a little amused much to his dismay. Professor Flitwick had come back and even he had to stifle his laughter. Nevertheless, Harry continued trying. With each failure, a pile of wands was starting to grow even larger. Ironically, Ollivander looked even happier the more wands that didn't produce an effect. Harry decided that he didn't like the old wandmaker all that well.

"No need to be discouraged, this happens from time to time. I think of it as a challenge to find the perfect match somewhere around here. Hm – I wonder, now – yes, why not – unusual combination – cedar and phoenix feather, twelve inches, I believe it's perfect for you." Ollivander reached into another box and handed Harry the wand he mentioned.

Harry waved the wand. Suddenly, he felt a stream of warmth in his fingertips. His eyes widened as he stared at the wand in his hand. He could feel the power emanating off of the wand. It was soothing and comfortable, and then he realized it. The power came from him, but only with the wand was he able to manifest it. He tentatively raised the wand and leveled it at eye level. Then with a swish of his hand, Harry flicked the wand upward. From its end, a bright display of green and black sparks shot forward. It coiled together like a snake as it spun forward before it dissipated when it connected to the wall. The Grangers cheered, Professor Flitwick was clapping fervently, and Ollivander looked like he was about to sob.

"Magnificent! Yes, indeed, oh, very good! Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..." Ollivander took back Harry's wand and Hermione's and placed them back into their boxes. He wrapped both boxes in brown paper, muttering, "Curious... curious..."

"Sorry," said Harry, wondering what Ollivander was mumbling about, "but what's curious?"

Ollivander gave Harry a fixated stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold. Every. Single. Wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave two other feathers – just two others. It is just curious indeed that you were given a wand when its two brothers are destined to fight."

Harry was intrigued.

"Yes, eleven inches. Holly. I have just sold that wand to a boy your age not too long ago. He looked like you, but you do not have his eyes... or scar. The other, thirteen-and-a-half inches, made of yew wood. The wand of You-Know-Who."

Hermione gulped and paled. Harry stared at her curiously, wondering who was You-Know-Who. Hermione mentioned about a Dark Lord who led the Death Eaters a decade ago. Was that who Ollivander meant. If so then... He turned to Ollivander and asked, "The very same boy fifty years ago that I remind you of?"

"Indeed. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great." Ollivander smiled. "I think we will expect great things from you. Whether they be terrible or not – well – that all depends upon you."

Harry inwardly frowned. He noticed Professor Flitwick shivering and Hermione openly grimacing. The Grangers did not understand what Ollivander had said, but made no move to ask him. The air in the shop became notably tense and so Mr. Granger paid for both wands. Ollivander bowed them from his shop. As they walked away, Harry turned back to stare at the old man standing at the front of the door. Their eyes met and Ollivander hastily retreated back inside. Hermione noticed their interaction and quickly moved to hold his hand, more out of her own comfort than with his. Harry didn't know why she was acting this way, but he would ask her about it later. Instead, his mind resonated with Ollivander's parting words.

_I think we will expect great things from you. Whether they be terrible or not – well – that all depends on you._

Harry smiled. Great things to expect, indeed.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: Writing this chapter was an experience! I was researching a lot about wand lore as well as some of the history behind Diagon Alley. Overall, I just wanted to be quick with the Diagon Alley chapters. I wanted to get moving ahead. Still, this chapter is pretty significant in its own right. Hermione meets Henry for the first time and doesn't hold a very high opinion of him, thus starting their little heated relationship which I'm starting to liken to Lily and James. Meanwhile, we have Harry meeting Hedwig and I made that scene a little forlorn since they aren't going to be partners in this universe.

As for the wand choices, I wanted to make it clear that Harry would be in the middle between the side of Light and Dark. That was why I introduced the concept that Fawkes gave out three feathers instead of two. I chose Cedar wood for Harry's wand because I think it fits him perfectly well. Wand lore dictates that those with Cedar-made wands have strength in character and loyalty while having hidden depths. I thought it was perfect to represent Harry considering his loyalty to Hermione and the friends he will make as well as being wholly underestimated later on.

Hermione's scene with the wand was something I thought up when I was reading the wand lore about the materials made by her wand. I thought it would be interesting to have it shown that Hermione was destined for great things in her own little way and in a sense, she is going to be a character that will notably become prominent in the events that will happen in the future.

Also, I wanted to shed light a little bit more on wizards' and witches' perception of things. Seeing as we're all muggles here, we tend to see things through our own point-of-view only. That was why I did a little exposition on the Death Eaters' War with Hermione. I have no doubt that the Death Eaters were a gruesome lot and that their actions during that dark period would be more than enough to scar a society. I noticed that many Holocaust victims were the same. They didn't want to hear Hitler's name or the Holocaust as they don't want to remember that time in their lives.

Prepare for the next chapter, Harry is going to learn about his brother, his parents, and Voldemort.


	6. The Bonds That Tie Us

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: Unfortunately, this is a rather short chapter in comparison to the previous chapters. However, it felt right to end it where it did and I already have the next chapter already being worked on. I would also like to briefly respond to some comments and questions that were raised in the review for the previous chapter. A few readers believed I gave Hermione a 'special' wand. There really isn't anything special about her wand other than the method it chose to be with Hermione. It's just a regular wand. You have to remember that some wands are considered sentient. Also, I like to point out a comment made by a reader named mir that made me chuckle. He or she sarcastically – at least that is what I assumed – asked why I didn't give Harry a super-special-awesome trunk. I find that shopping spree most fan fics do to be a little boring and not very fun to read.

Anyway, enough about my words. Please continue on and read the story. I assure you that despite its length, it is something that I hope you would all enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter V<strong>

**The Bonds That Tie Us**

A few days came and went since their first glimpse of the magical world. The trip to Diagon Alley was an eye-opening experience in more ways than one. For Harry, it was the discovery that he had a godfather, Sirius Black, and through him, he had been given the title of Lord Black, Head of the House of Black, and all the vast riches – and, presumably, influence – the position entailed.

Harry glanced at the letter from Gringotts Bank as he laid atop his bed and smiled. Through means unknown to him – though he would wager they had used their own gold and clout – the bank had given him the two things he had asked for. Harry had to admire how swift the bank took care of business and he wondered what other services they had that could be of use. Leaving that question for another time, Harry continued to revel in his victory. He was no longer Harry James Potter, ward of Vernon and Petunia Dursley. He was now Harry James Black, Lord of House Black.

When he had told Hermione this – along with what he learned and the events involved – following their excursion, she had scolded him for his blatant manipulation of the goblins and how idiotic he had been to have potentially made an enemy of the bank that held his money. Harry had to admit that he hadn't given it much forethought, but he was still pleased with what occurred. After the reprimanding of his actions, Hermione was surprisingly accepting of his new wealth and title. To her, he was still Harry. It didn't matter to her if he was Lord Black or not.

In light of his new fortune, Hermione promised to help him go over some etiquette that befitted a lord. While Harry was not looking forward to being drilled with learning new customs and proper behavior, it was an aspect he needed if he wanted his plan to succeed. He had told Hermione that he wanted to enter the magical world as Harry Black, not Harry Potter. He planned to shed his former identity and be reborn as someone who would be able to do great things as Ollivander described.

But first, Harry knew he needed to learn more things about the Blacks and what it meant to be Lord Black in Wizarding society.

_Thump._

If what he read correctly from the book about old magical families, the Blacks were well-known. In the past, they were celebrated wizards and witches, known for their magical prowess on the battlefield and their lineage consisting only of magical persons. They had even invested in business in Diagon Alley and several other shopping lanes connected to the area, helping the London magical shopping area to flourish into what it was today. Unfortunately, the Blacks had fallen in repute by the modern century. They were now considered dark wizards and witches who supported pure-blood supremacy. Though their wealth and the influence of their name remained, their numbers have dwindled considerably. He wondered who were the still living members of his new family. Considering the book he read was published in the sixties, there were probably more that were not mentioned in the text. Surely his godfather could not have been the last of the Blacks.

_Thump. Thump._

Surprisingly, Potter was also one of the old families in the magical world. He had looked up Potter in jest in the table of contents and was shocked when he found his former last name among them. Like the Blacks, they were a famous clan of wizard and witches who fought furiously in wars. The Potters were a well-known family and their line could be traced back to the Peverell family – apparently, it was a family that was a subject of intrigue and legend. Like the Blacks, their numbers had also dwindled by the twentieth century. But, unlike the Blacks, they often sided with the forces against dark wizards and witches.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Harry sighed and got up from his bed. _I wonder what is causing all that ruckus. _He thought sarcastically. He knew fully well who was on the other side of his window. Opening it, Harry stuck his head out and looked down. The light from the lap attached to the corners of the Dursley house glowed softly upon Hermione, allowing Harry to observe the annoyed frown that marred her face. Folding his arms together on the window sill and leaning forward, Harry cocked an eyebrow at his bushy-haired best friend; he noticed that Hermione was wearing her school backpack on her shoulders.

"Running away from home?" he asked her with a subtle grin.

Ignoring Harry's question, Hermione glared at Harry. "Harry! I know you heard me the first time! What took you so long to answer?"

Chuckling, Harry leaned his cheek against his right hand. "I was lost in my own thoughts."

"Can I go up?" Hermione asked, ignoring his statement. "I have something important to tell you!"

"Why couldn't you just go through the front door?" Harry asked. "It's unlocked. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia are hosting one of my uncle's business parties again."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Don't you think I would have tried that? It was locked."

"The back door then?"

"Dudley is in the kitchen eating."

Harry knew, more than anyone else, how much Hermione disliked Dudley. The only thing they had in common with one another was that they were both tenderly loved by their parents. That was it. Often times, Harry had to guard Dudley from Hermione's wrath. Granted, it was always amusing to watch Big D be one-upped by Hermione as losing to a girl thoroughly embarrassed the lad, but Harry would rather not sit through another of Dudley's tantrums during dinnertime. It was uncomfortable, annoying, and just plain weird.

He hummed in response to Hermione's answers and nodded. "Well, fine, come on up. Just be careful, okay? I don't want you falling again. You were lucky that you didn't break your leg last year."

It was a common occurrence. Whenever Hermione was upset and it was past curfew, she would come visit him in the middle of the night. Luckily, there was a protruding part of the living room below his room, allowing Hermione to easily come up. However, Harry was constantly worried that the girl would fall and hurt herself one of these days. It hadn't happened yet, but the rule of statistics says it would occur one day.

As Hermione began climbing, Harry moved from the window and went to his door to lock it. Once locked, he inspected his room. It was a little bit messy, but it was not enough for him to be embarrassed of. He threw a few articles of clothing lying on the floor into his hamper just as Hermione scaled the walls and entered his room through the window.

"You're wearing pajamas?" Harry asked once he saw her. He hadn't noticed before when she was on the ground. He had been more focused on her expressions than what she was wearing.

Hermione was wearing a baggy, dark-green shirt that she had probably been given to her from her father. Underneath the shirt was a pair of black pajama pants that Harry distinctly remembered she bought when he went with her and her parents to the shopping center months ago. With the inclusion of her regular sneakers, Harry thought it was a strange mix of clothing. He grinned.

"Don't. Say. A. Word." Hermione said, a veiled threat hidden underneath her words.

Harry decided to keep his thoughts to himself.

Hermione took to the bed, making herself comfortable. She removed her backpack, setting it down on the floor as she began unzipping it. No longer annoyed, her mood quickly shifted into her more excitable ones. Hermione spoke rapidly, "Harry, you're not going to believe the discovery I made. It all began when we were in _Flourish and Blotts_. I met this kid that looks a lot like you and that he was the Boy Who lived and that there was this huge war that happened by this person named You-Know-Who and was committing all this atrocities and it all ended when -"

"Hermione, breathe!" Harry interrupted, raising palm up to her face. "I have no idea what you're saying. I remembered you telling me about You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters, but you lost me when you begin spouting something about some living boy."

Hermione smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Then I guess I'll get straight to the point. Harry, I think you have a twin brother named Henry Potter!"

Of all the things Hermione would have said, he had not expected _that_.

"What?"

"Like I said, I think you have a brother named Henry Potter. He is also known as the Boy Who Lived, the only person that survived the Killing Curse, and the one who defeated You-Know-Who."

Harry stared at her, blinking in confusion. "I don't understand."

Thus, Hermione explained her run-in with Henry Potter at the bookstore. She spoke of how similar Harry and Henry looked apart from the few differences. After they returned home, Hermione began reading the books she purchased from Diagon Alley. In two of the texts, it spoke of the defeat of You-Know-Who by Henry Potter who had been a baby at the time on October 31st, 1981.

"Look, Hermione, you met a boy who shares the same last name as I do that looks eerily like me, but that doesn't mean we're twins. I mean, if that was true, then why did my father just abandon me as a baby? It seems to me this Henry Potter bloke is haughty from the fame he garnered." Harry denied, not truly believing Hermione based on the findings she just presented.

Hermione placed her hands on her shoulders and said, "Then how come Henry Potter's parents' names are James and Lily Potter? The name of _your _parents?"

"Coincidence." Harry shrugged.

"Really, Harry?" Hermione drawled. "Well, how about this. The aftermath of You-Know-Who's attack on the Potters led to the death of Lily Potter and the disappearance of _Sirius Black_. The same Sirius Black that is allegedly your godfather and with whom you inherited your title and wealth from!"

Harry knew he couldn't deny it any further. As much as he wanted to believe that it was all just a coincidence, he knew that, rationally, all what Hermione was said was true. However, if he allowed himself to accept Hermione's logic, it would mean that he had to face a question that he didn't want to think about. His face turned cold and inexpressive. The usual apathy on his face became more pronounced and solemn.

Softly, he asked, "If what you say is correct, Hermione, then who raised Henry? It couldn't have been my father, right? He left me with my aunt and uncle. He probably left Henry in some orphanage or with other relatives that I don't even know of!"

Hermione paused and slowly shook her head. "The books say that James Potter is one of the best aurors – magical police, by the way – in Europe and that his son, Henry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, is being raised well by him."

Harry scowled. He was filled with an unfamiliar emotion that he had never felt before. At the thought of his father and his supposed twin brother, Harry found himself loathing the two of them. For years, he treated the image of his father with apathy. Harry never cared to learn more about him and never placed any stock of his return. However, to learn that he had a brother whom was being raised by the father that had forsakened him, something that he had locked away in the depths of his heart was opened. Dark thoughts filled his mind.

However, Harry made the mistake of facing Hermione with his face full of hatred and rage. Her eyes were wide with worry and fear. He realized then how much he had allowed his emotions to take reign of him and he quickly seized to control them once again. Harry smoothed over his features, attempting to calm himself down before he lashed at Hermione by mistake. He would never forgive himself if he was to do that. It would be another thing to blame on his father if his friendship with Hermione was ruined because of it.

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione tentatively reached out to him and took hold of his hand. A soothing sensation cascaded over him. Harry stared at Hermione's thumb gently stroking his fingers, humming a small melody he remembered they learned in school. He began to relax and found his loathing being slowly washed away. Harry felt purified and he silently vowed not to give in to those feelings again. It was all thanks to Hermione.

Harry met Hermione's eyes, his lips forming a shy smile.

"I'm fine."

* * *

><p>Harry entered the kitchen, yawning loudly as he absentmindedly scratched the back of his head and stomach simultaneously. He lazily glanced at the kitchen's clock and found that it was one in the afternoon. Frowning, he chastised himself for having stayed up too late reading last night. Harry walked to the island in the kitchen, scouring through the fruit bowl for any fruits he had an appetite for. Choosing a banana, Harry began unpeeling the skin. The apples were already starting to spoil – it was too mushy for him to eat.<p>

"What are you doing?" Aunt Petunia asked behind him.

He jumped, nearly dropping his chosen breakfast – or lunch considering the time – and turned around. Sure enough, his aunt stood at the entrance of the kitchen, her arms folded across her chest. She appeared troubled, her eyebrows were furrowed together and she was frowning. Harry quirked an eyebrow, wondering why Aunt Petunia looked upset. It was not uncommon of him to eat a fruit now and then. It was also strange for her to actually be talking to him again. His relatives had been ignoring him since he had gotten his letter. It was now mid-August.

Harry decided not to take notice of her behavior and shrugged. "I'm just eating a banana."

Aunt Petunia's frown deepened further. "Is that Granger girl a witch?"

"Hermione?" Harry asked rhetorically. "Yes. She's a witch too. I went with her family to buy my school supplies."

"And her parents don't find it strange that she is..."

"Magical?"

Aunt Petunia silently nodded.

"Well, I don't know. They seem supportive, but I'm sure it's a lot to take in even for them." Harry tapped his chin. "Does Uncle Vernon suspect anything?"

"No," she fervently shook her head, "he thinks that she is attending a normal boarding school."

"Like Dudley? He's going to Smeltings, right?"

"Of course."

An awkward tension filled the air around them as Harry didn't know what else there was to say. Harry couldn't figure out what it was that his aunt wanted. For most of his life, Aunt Petunia mostly ignored him. The only time he could remember she even showed some semblance of familial feelings for him was when she had yelled at Uncle Vernon when he had gotten his letter. Other than that, she remained mostly reserved and uncaring.

"So where is Hermione? You usually spend most of your time with her." Aunt Petunia commented.

"She went on a trip with her parents to visit family."

The last time he had seen Hermione was two weeks ago on his birthday. It was a low-key event as requested by Harry. They simply had a birthday dinner at Hermione's house and her parents helped her bake a cake for him. It was not the most delicious thing in the world considering Hermione's inability to work in a kitchen, but he loved it all the same. Later, she had given him a homework planner as a present. Harry had no doubt that Hermione wanted him to be extraordinarily prepared for Hogwarts and what better way to do it than to have something to keep himself organized.

Unfortunately, Hermione announced that she was going away on vacation with her family for a few weeks to visit some of her other relatives before they began schooling. Her parents had decided that since she was going to be gone for the next ten months, it was only fair that they spent time together as a family. Harry wasn't bothered and he learned the pure-blood customs and etiquette quickly enough. The only thing he disliked about Hermione leaving was that he was going to be very bored without her. Thankfully, Hedwig – it was what he suggested Hermione name the snowy white owl after reading a few chapters into his copy of _History of Magic_ – was there to keep in correspondence with each other. It was good practice to learn how wizards and witches delivered their posts to one another.

"Harry," his aunt began. Harry found it even stranger that Aunt Petunia actually said his name. He could count the few times she actually called him by name with the fingers on one hand. "if you hadn't been abandoned by your no-good father after the death of my sister, then I would never have wanted to do anything with you."

Harry suspected as much, but he didn't comment. He continued to listen.

"I don't know if this will help, but my sister was good friends with one of your kind since long before she went to that freakish school of hers. He was an awful boy, but if there is anyone that would help you while you're... in that world, it would be him."

His eyes widened. He certainly did not expect Aunt Petunia to willingly attempt to help him. Harry suspected that his mother's relationship with her sister was strained. He speculated whether or not Aunt Petunia felt guilty over her estrangement with her sister and that her current actions were a result of that guilt. Well, Harry could honestly admit that he did not care any other way. He would take help if needed and if Aunt Petunia was willing to part with it, all the better.

"His name is Severus Snape. He was your mother's best friend. I don't know what happened to him. Maybe he's dead, maybe he isn't. All I know is that he and my sister were close at one point before her passing."

Before he could get a chance to ask any questions about the mysterious best friend of his mother, Aunt Petunia turned her back on him and walked away from the kitchen. Harry guessed that it had taken all of her energy to even amass the words needed to speak to him. He was curious who this Severus Snape was and what his relationship with his mother had been like. If anything, he could learn a few things about his mother from him. While he did not care to know more about James Potter, the last few weeks made him supremely interested in how Lily Evans – he refused to attach his sire's last name to her – and Sirius Black were like.

Departing from the kitchen, Harry left for his room. He needed to plan for the upcoming year and how he was going to get in contact with the mysterious Severus Snape.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: Harry would definitely have a shock once he finds out that Severus Snape will be his Head of House and Potions Professor. Currently, Harry will come to see Snape as a good person despite what his actions would suggest later on. No, I will not change Snape and make him completely different than what was shown in canon, but I will try to show different facets of him that I presume only those in his House would see. With that said, the next chapter will be very interesting. Harry and Hermione will now go to the Hogwarts Express and Harry will meet his twin brother and his Marauders. Harry would also meet a certain bubblegum-haired individual. You have three guesses who it is and only the first one counts. Since I branded this story as AU, I hope some of you would forgive me if I make a few minor changes here and there.


	7. Meetings on the Train

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: Whew, this chapter was a little difficult for me to write. The introduction of several new characters into the story always takes a heavy toll on me because I write them as if they are the main characters with their own perspective. I always disliked those stories where all the supporting characters can think of is the main character of the story. Granted, in some cases, it's unavoidable as in the case of Hermione and Harry caring for the welfare of each other. However, this is more common in fan fiction and I don't want my story to be like that. I would also like to extend my thanks to my new Beta, Pax Humana. Hopefully, most of the mistakes I make are caught before I end up publishing it now, heh-heh. Anyway, enough of my talking and continue on to read the chapter where Harry meets Henry and Tonks.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter VI<strong>

**Meetings on the Train**

Harry, Hermione, and the Grangers stood completely lost in between Platforms 9 and 10. The instructions Professor Flitwick gave them were easy to follow and detailed. To board the Hogwarts Express to take them up to Scotland where Hogwarts Castle stood, Harry and Hermione had to go into London. From there, they would go to King's Cross railway station and enter Platform 9 ¾. Simple enough. Despite the odd name, Harry was not surprised that they would not go to a regular platform to board the train to Hogwarts. The tricky part was _how_ to enter Platform 9 ¾.

"Do you think Professor Flitwick is barking mad?" Harry asked in a monotonous voice.

The question hung in the air and none of the Grangers wanted to answer. It was quite a surprise that Hermione didn't speak up. He knew very well how much she respected authority figures, especially teachers. He turned to Hermione and found her contemplating what he said. It was unnerving.

"Maybe," Hermione began thoughtfully, "we should just run into the wall like he suggested. What is there to lose?"

She made a fair point. Harry turned back to the brick wall all of them were staring into and surmised that Hermione was right. Still, that wall did not look like a portal to Platform 9 ¾. Although he did not watch the telly often, Harry knew that portals were swirling vortexes or something similar. Or maybe...

"...it's an illusion?" Charlotte voiced his thoughts. "Professor Flitwick did explain about the Statute of Secrecy. In a public place like this, I think it's only natural that wizards and witches would make it appear like a brick wall."

Nathan nodded. "It makes sense. Still, it's a little unbelievable. It didn't help that he wrote down 'Try a running start' in the directions." He pointed to a spot on a piece of paper. "It sounded like a joke!"

Harry had to agree with Hermione's parents. He found Hermione shaking with excitement at the conclusion their party came up with. She had grabbed the handlebar of her trolley and seemed ready to charge forward into the wall. He spotted Hedwig in her cage eyeing Hermione with a baleful look. Oddly enough, Harry thought he saw the snowy owl shaking her head and sighing.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Hermione nearly shouted.

"Hold on, Hermione. We're not even sure if we're right." Her father placed a hand on her shoulder.

As if on a cue, a three-person group walked past them. The tallest of the group was a middle-aged man with short, dark hair and a rough beard. He was a wide man with a small, protruding stomach, but it was not even near the girth and size of his uncle. The man had a large, kind smile and Harry couldn't help but muse that he looked like Father Christmas when he had been young.

Beside the man was a woman about the same age. She had dark-brown hair like Hermione, but it was tied up in a bun with a few curls falling stylishly down her temple. The woman was very beautiful. She had a porcelain complexion, and she had dark, piercing eyes that displayed her awareness to her surroundings. Her physical traits complemented well the aristocratic air that she exuded.

In the center of the older couple was an older teenage girl that Harry assumed was their child. She had the same height as the older woman and shared similar appearances but her large, mischievous grin closely resembled the man beside her. However, what drew him to her were not those traits, but the spiked, bubblegum pink hair that completely stole the spotlight of her other features.

"Do you _really _have to walk with me?" The girl moaned. "I'm seventeen! I'm an adult! I don't need my parents to walk me around."

The older woman clicked her tongue in disapproval. "Now, Nymphadora, this is your final year. We won't be able to do this again as a family! Well... not until you give me grandchildren..."

"TONKS! Call me Tonks! And what do you mean 'grandchildren', I'm only seventeen!"

"I wasn't that much older when I had you, Nymphadora."

The girl named Nymphadora who preferred to be called Tonks groaned.

"Come on, sweetie; just do this for your mother." The man gently intervened in the squabble between mother and child.

Tonks sighed. "Alright, fine! Why can't you two just shag and have another kid or something? That way, you two can fawn over him or her instead of me."

"And have another you to raise? No thank you." The mother swiftly countered.

The small family broke out into laughter, but the laughing immediately died when all three walked into the wall and disappeared. Harry looked away from the occurrence and turned back to the Grangers. He found the three of them staring into the wall where the family walked through.

Charlotte chuckled at the scene and said, "Well, that answers our question on whether or not it's a portal."

"Can we go _now_?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"Hold on, hold on." Nathan delayed again. "Professor Flitwick said that your mum and I can't walk through it. This is as far as we can go. So why don't we take some family photos before you go off to school. Okay?"

Harry smiled softly at the scene. He witnessed whatever argument Hermione was about to make against her father die in her throat when her father mentioned 'family photos'. He knew how much Hermione cared for her parents. Harry pulled his trolley a few steps away, content to give the Grangers the moment they needed to take the photos they wanted.

Nathan had taken out a camera and began taking pictures of Hermione. As Harry patiently watched from the sideline, Hermione's mother caught sight of him.

"Harry, what are you doing off to the side? We're going to take pictures of you too!" Charlotte elbowed her husband in the rib. "Nathan! Don't waste all the film on Hermione!"

"Oof!" Nathan cringed and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, love."

"Are you sure, Mrs. Granger? It seems such a waste to take pictures of me." Harry admitted sincerely.

Charlotte waved away the notion. "Not at all. You're practically part of the family with how often you're with us."

Harry was stunned. He had never thought that the Grangers actually thought of him that way. He had always assumed that they only tolerated him because Hermione and he were best friends. For some reason, Harry found that this revelation was far greater on his personal scale than having found out he was a wizard or that he was Lord Black.

"I don't know what to say."

"Then don't!" Hermione quipped. "Just take the pictures so that we can get on the train!"

Harry chuckled and did just that. His smiles came off as shy as Hermione's father began taking his pictures. After a few shots, he moved Hermione and himself together for a group photograph. On the final photograph, Hermione suddenly took hold of his hand and pulled him close. She turned back to the camera and beamed at the lens. Harry smiled shyly once again but this time, the camera flashed and took the photo just as he sneaked a glance at Hermione.

"Oh, this will come out wonderfully!" Nathan exclaimed.

"It had better, Nathan." His wife responded.

Nathan chuckled nervously and turned back to Harry and Hermione. "Alright, kids, this is where we say goodbye. Be sure to write, okay?"

"Of course, Daddy." Hermione excitedly agreed. "Hug?"

As Hermione and her father shared a hug, Harry found Charlotte's arms wrapped around him. "Be sure to do well in school and please make sure my daughter doesn't go overboard. You know how she gets."

Harry grinned knowingly. "Of course. I'll make sure she doesn't stay after curfew in the library."

"Mother!" Hermione cried out.

Charlotte stifled a chuckle. "I'm only concerned for you, dear."

"Harry," Nathan knelt down beside him. "I know very well how much you care for my daughter, so I'm leaving it to you to make sure she'll be okay, alright?"

Harry pieced together the veiled meaning behind his words. He was not just asking him to keep Hermione safe from harm, but to also help her socially. Because of her intelligence, Hermione had been isolated from her peers during much of her childhood. She often attempted to befriend others by attempting to display her talents, but that made her come across as a know-it-all. Even now, Hermione had few friends among the kids in their year, but at least they no longer persecuted her for her love of knowledge.

He placed a hand over his heart and nodded fiercely at Hermione's father. "I swear, Mr. Granger, that I would take care of Hermione to the utmost of my ability! Even if I am faced with a ten-foot troll, I would willingly jump on its back and attempt to beat it with its own club if it means Hermione will be safe!"

"Good lad!" Nathan announced cheerfully, patting Harry on the shoulder.

"Ready, Harry?" Hermione asked earnestly a moment later. Her hands were on her trolley, ready to burst forward with all the strength she could muster into the portal to Platform 9 ¾.

Harry bowed his head and gripped the handle of his own trolley. This was it. There was no going back. Everything had been changing since Hermione's eleventh birthday. He had been content with his life before. He had a friend that would always be by his side and he was well-cared for by his relatives despite their lack of affection. However, when he witnessed magic for the first time, he felt drawn to the potential that magic held. When he felt that feeling, Harry knew how to realize his hidden ambitions.

Making their final farewell to Hermione's parents, Harry and Hermione pushed their trolleys forward and ran to the wall. He closed his eyes, nearly expecting a crash, but to his relief, his expectations were not met. By his side, Harry heard Hermione gasp and he reopened his eyes to see what was happening. He nearly gasped as well.

The imagery in Platform 9 ¾ was similar to the one they witnessed in Diagon Alley. All around them they watched wizards and witches dressed in brightly colored robes moving about with their children. Harry saw several people's belongings floating in mid-air and following a group of people. He watched as people seemed to suddenly appear from nothing at one corner of the platform. At another corner, Harry saw what looked like fireplaces erupting in green flames and people covered in soot walking out of it.

Normally, Harry had great control over his emotions. The subtle feelings he did show were often controlled and were what he wanted to display. Occasionally, he would slip, but that was only when he and Hermione were alone. However, at the sight of the colorful and magical world the two best friends walked into, Harry could not help but allow one word to escape his lips that expressed his awe,

"Wicked."

"Harry, look!" Hermione pulled on his sleeves and pointed to the bright, red engine not too far away. "That must be the Hogwarts Express!"

Harry smiled widely, his excitement overwhelming what little control he had left. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's board it and go to Hogwarts! I'll race you!"

Before Hermione could reply, Harry took his trolley and rushed ahead. He laughed loudly as he heard Hermione's indignant cry followed by her frantic footsteps to catch up. This was their first step to something grand.

* * *

><p>Hermione settled into an empty compartment in the middle of the train. She took a seat opposite of Harry and placed Hedwig's cage beside her. The owl hooted graciously, no doubt thankful that that she would no longer be rattled within her cage as Hermione and Harry raced with their luggage. As an apology, Hermione gave her a treat and the snowy white owl promptly began sleeping after consuming its snack. Hermione had little doubt that dealing with two excited eleven-year-olds tired her immensely.<p>

"When do you suppose the train departs?" Harry asked her, slightly bouncing on his chair.

She had never seen Harry so expressive before. It was often that Harry would be the one to calm her down whenever her energy was in abundance. He had always carried himself with a calm, mature demeanor that she had nearly forgotten that Harry was not an adult, but a child. Still, Hermione loved this side to Harry that was so open with his emotions. She never particularly cared for how his relatives treated him, but since he never wanted to talk about it, she never pried.

Hermione checked her watch and replied, "Well, according to the time, the Hogwarts Express won't leave for another hour or so. We're a little early."

"Better early than arriving when all the compartments are already filled up."

"True. I'm not like you, Harry. I'm a little shy with meeting new people." Hermione said forlornly. Her attempts to make friends were often disastrous. "Still, I can't wait until we learn magic! I already picked up a few spells!"

Harry stared at her with one eyebrow cocked up. "I thought we weren't allowed to do magic outside of school?"

"I, well," Hermione blushed furious, having completely forgotten about that rule. "I couldn't help it! There were so many things to learn that I just _had _to try some of the spells I was reading!"

Harry chuckled. "Hermione, relax! To be honest, I did a little bit of practice while you were away."

"Harry!" Hermione gasped.

"Hey now, don't be the pot calling the kettle black." Harry paused. "Actually, feel free to call me Black. It _is _my name now."

Hermione frowned at the pun. "That was terrible, Harry."

Harry shrugged and grinned.

"I'm still not sure you should be doing this, Harry. It's one thing to change your name to Harry James Black and taking up the title, but it's another to claim you're a pure-blood. People are going to be asking a lot of questions about you, Harry." Hermione told him worriedly.

"I'll be fine." The hyperactive, childlike Harry disappeared and his normal persona emerged much to Hermione's displeasure. "I'm going to keep mum about my origins and claim I was raised away from society with a relative to explain my ignorance. It's all a matter of being observant with the people I'm going to be associating with and ensuring I don't talk too much."

Hermione sighed and saw his point. He was adamant about his change of identity and she was worried that she was going to lose the part of Harry she knew and grew up with. She fondly remembered the times whenever Harry encouraged her to do her best or tried to keep her safe from others and herself. Harry was always there whenever she had a fencing match or a quiz bowl to participate in. It was his friendship and presence that helped her succeed and her confidence to flourish.

"Hermione, I just want to let you know that you will always be my best friend, okay?"

She glanced over at Harry giving her that small, innocent smile he reserved only for her. It always meant that he was being sincere and honest. Hermione shook her head and berated herself. She was being too worried over something that would never happen.

"Thanks, Harry. You know how I can be." Hermione twirled her wand bashfully.

Harry let out a light chuckle. "You wouldn't be you if you never fret over everything."

The compartment abruptly opened, surprising the two occupants. Harry and Hermione jumped in their seats and immediately swiveled their heads to the compartment door.

Standing at the threshold was a boy with features strikingly similar to Harry. His brown eyes danced with mischief as he sported a cocky grin. His black hair was wild and untamable, hovering just slightly above his eyebrows. Through the strands of his hair, Hermione could see a scar running down his forehead. Instantaneously, Hermione stood at her feet and pointed an accusing finger at none other than Henry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and the little boy she met at the bookstore over a month ago.

"You!" Hermione nearly yelled.

Henry's grin grew larger upon recognizing Hermione. "Well, look what we have here! Looks like all my searching wasn't a waste at all!"

"Henry, is this the muggle-born you were talking about?" A curious voice asked behind him.

Hermione looked past Henry and found two boys about the same as them hovering behind him. One of the boys had the same mischievous gleam as Henry; he had fiery red hair and was tall and lanky. The owner of the voice whom had asked the question was next to him and had blonde hair and a slightly pudgy frame. However, unlike his two other friends, the blonde-haired boy did not look particularly as cheeky as them.

"She's the one, Nev! Bushy, brown hair and everything!"

Said owner of the bushy, brown hair glared pointedly at Henry. He was absolutely infuriating! However, at the sight of him, Hermione remembered his relation to Harry. Eyes widened with worry, Hermione diverted her attention back to Harry. Surprisingly, he remained patiently still where he sat; his eyes were on Henry and were too focused on observing him to notice her. For weeks, she had been worried what his reaction would be upon meeting his twin brother. Hermione had seen something in his eyes when she told him her conclusions and for the first time, she felt a little bit scared of Harry. Fortunately, he had snapped out of it a moment later and had quickly calmed her.

"Alright! I'm sure you know who I am by now. Amazed?" Henry raised an inquisitive eyebrow and gave her a saucy wink.

"Hardly!"

The red-haired boy laughed. "You owe me a galleon, mate! Face it, Henry, you're no Gilderoy Lockhart!"

"Shut it, Ron! As if you're a charming bloke yourself!" Henry harshly whispered.

Ron's cheeks flustered red, eliciting a laugh from the other boy that had been called Nev.

Hermione's patience was wearing thin and she would love it if all three boys were to leave. It was already bad enough that the so-called savior of the wizarding world was a stuck-up toe-rag with all the intelligence of a sea cucumber; she definitely didn't need to socialize with his two friends, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.

It was due to her growing irritation which Harry noticed that he finally made a move.

"I find it very rude of you three to barge your way into our cabin without so much as introducing yourself. Has anyone taught the three of you any manners?" Harry inquired Henry, Ron, and Nev. His tone was dry and icy. Hermione thought she felt a drop of temperature in the room when Harry finished speaking.

The three friends looked to one another, looking thoroughly chastised. Still, Hermione saw a glimmer of defiance in Henry's eyes.

"I'm Neville Longbottom, but my friends call me 'Nev'. We three have been friends since we were still in our nappies." Neville introduced himself first, bashfully smiling.

Ron came after Neville. "I'm Ronald Weasley, but, yeah, call me Ron. Everyone else does."

"And, of course, I'm Henry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and son of the best auror ever, James Potter! Impressed?" As expected of Henry's introduction.

Although Hermione wanted them out of the cabin, manners dictated that she not turn them away… _yet_. Placing her hands on her hips, Hermione confidently said, "My name is Hermione Granger and I'm a muggle-born. I plan to be the top student at Hogwarts."

Harry rose to his feet, mimicking a posture of great refinement. He glided over to Henry, his piercing stare locking into his eyes. Harry held out his hand and said, "I am Harry James Black. I may be young, but I'm the current Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. So please, feel free to call me Lord Black."

Upon the name 'Black', Henry, Ron, and Neville scowled and glared at Harry with disgust.

Henry, in particular, slapped Harry's hand away from him. "Don't touch me!"

"Potter, you're being incredibly rude!" Hermione yelled, upset that her best friend was being treated in such an awful way.

"You shouldn't even be near him. He's _evil_."

Hermione saw red. It was not the first time someone accused Harry of being a troubled child. Kids on the playground sometimes remarked that he was a bad kid. Sure he was not as expressive as other children and was even close to being as hyperactive, but that did not mean he was lesser in morals than they were! "Harry is not evil! He's a very caring and warm person. Besides, what would you know! You just met him!"

"Are you kidding me? He's a _Black_. Since you're a muggle-born, you may not know this, but the Black family has a dark reputation! There was only one Black that was any good and he died for the greater good. His name was –"

"You know," Harry interrupted as he leaned towards Henry. "We look similar, you and I. Perhaps we're long, lost brothers and I'm the one your father decided to abandon."

Hermione froze. She tore away from Henry to stare nervously at Harry. Though he said those words in a bland tone, she recognized the veiled malice and spite hidden within it. In all the years she had known Harry, she had never seen him became as enraged as he was at this very moment. Her eyes shifted anxiously from Harry to Henry.

Henry's baleful glare intensified. "I could never be related to someone like _you_. And even if I had a long, lost brother, my father would never do something like that! He's the strongest wizard ever, second only to Albus Dumbledore! He fights for the Light!"

"Shows what you know." Harry sneered. "Maybe your father has a few skeletons in his closet that he doesn't want you to know and maybe –"

"Harry, that's enough!" Hermione shouted.

The cabin fell silent. Harry immediately ceased talking and angrily turned away from Henry. He sat back down to his seat and turned his head to look out the window. The atmosphere of the compartment became awkward. Hermione turned to the trio and softly said, "I think you three should go."

"Yeah, okay." Henry consented without a fuss. "By the way, Granger, you should listen to what I said. Black is dangerous. He's probably going to be sorted into Slytherin and become a dark wizard. He's a Black so he's probably just pretending to be nice to you out of his own twisted sense of fun. Right, guys?"

Ron and Neville nodded, mumbling their agreement.

"See? Why don't you get your stuff and sit with us? You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks." Hermione said coolly.

"Hey, wait –"

Before Henry could say another word, Hermione pushed him out along with his friends and closed the cabin door. Who did he think he was anyway? He was nothing more than a stuck-up, narrow-minded brat who was quick to judge others based on their name alone. However, if Hermione was to be honest, she had to admit that Harry wasn't being very helpful with the way he presented his character. He was being equally as obnoxious as Henry.

Harry remained quiet, dutifully ignoring her. Hermione sat back down and sighed. She really didn't know what to say. It would have been easy to tell Harry that he had been out of line with his comments, but there was no tactful way to say, 'Harry, you shouldn't have taken your repressed anger out on your twin brother because your father abandoned you'.

Hedwig hooted.

Hermione turned to the snowy white owl, having completely forgotten about her during the altercation a moment earlier. Hedwig cocked her head towards Harry and was gesturing for her to go over to him. When Hermione hesitated to move, the bird hooted once more and glared at her owner. Hermione knew that she lost the battle of will with the owl. She got up from her seat and sat on the open space next to Harry.

"Harry, I know this may be silly to ask but… are you alright?"

Harry let out a breath and faced Hermione. He smiled at her, but it was less than genuine. "I don't know. I thought I would be able to handle seeing him. But actually meeting and talking to him just brought up some bad feelings. I'm sorry if I upset you, Hermione."

"It's not me you should be worried about!" Hermione raised her voice. "I'm more concerned about you! I never saw you completely lose your temper before!"

"Strange, isn't it?" Harry chuckled mirthlessly. "Well, I still promise to control myself in the future. It was very unbecoming of me to act that way. If you hadn't realized, I think I just made enemies of three well-known wizarding families."

"What?"

"The redhead and the blonde are part of the pure-blood families of Weasley and Longbottom respectively. Not as affluent as the Blacks, but they're still highly respected." Harry explained.

Hermione frowned. "They're not any better than Potter though. I thought Longbottom seemed nice, but I guess I was mistaken."

"My brother is every bit the ponce as you said he was going to be, Hermione."

"I know! Who was he to say that you're evil and going to grow up to be a dark wizard?"

"Well, the Blacks aren't exactly known for their kindness and generosity." Harry admitted airily. "It's something I want to change, but it's going to take some time."

"Why didn't you tell me you practically inherited a bad reputation?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't want you to worry."

"Well, I'm worrying now!"

"Everything will work out fine, Hermione."

Hermione groaned and fell back on the seat. "Harry, even you have to admit that making the savior of the wizarding world dislike you is not exactly starting off on the right foot."

Harry genuinely laughed this time. "Like I said, everything will work out in the end. We'll go to Hogwarts and take the first and second top student position from right under everyone's nose."

"I call being first in our year."

"Well, that's not very fair. You're already a fencing and spelling bee champion and you were once the top student of the entire school before. Shouldn't it be my turn now?"

Hermione grinned and shook her head. "Never. If you want the top student position so bad, you just have to finally outscore me in all your classes."

He stared at her incredulously and snorted. "_Highly _unlikely."

* * *

><p>As Harry watched the countryside roll by out the window, he wondered how it was possible that no one ever stumbled across the train tracks that the Hogwarts Express was on. It was easy to dismiss the answer as being "a wizard did it", but he was much more curious on the mechanics of how the magical world operated under the unassuming eye of regular folk. Perhaps magic was a government conspiracy that only the Queen and the Prime Minister knew. In any case, Harry would not get the answer just by thinking upon it.<p>

His thoughts returned to his disastrous first meeting with his twin and his friends. It had not been his intention to antagonize him, but his patience wore thin the more he talked. At first, Harry wanted to give the boy the benefit of the doubt, but as Henry continued interacting with Hermione, he had snapped. He had always prided himself with his degree of control with his emotions, but he couldn't help but feel ashamed that he allowed Hermione to witness a lapse of strength on his part. Hadn't he promised her father that he would be the one to protect her? It appeared that it was the other way around instead.

Harry glanced across the cabin to find Hermione quietly rereading _Hogwarts, a History_. The comment Henry made about him being most likely sorted into Slytherin had piqued her interest enough to reread the information about the four Hogwarts Houses. She had then gone on a very passionate lecture on how it was bad to generalize the people within an entire House because a few individuals in it stood out amongst the others. After Hermione finished her rant, she had slipped back into reading the large book.

"Leave me alone, Truman! I said it once and I'll say it again: I will not go out with you!" A feminine voice shouted from outside of their cabin.

Harry turned his head to the door and Hermione lowered her book. More muffled shouting occurred followed by a loud groan of frustration. Surprisingly, the compartment opened and the source of the feminine voice slipped in.

"Ruddy git…" she said under her breath before closing and locking the cabin door.

Her back was turned to Harry and Hermione, but the unmistakable spiked, bubblegum pink hair was easily recognizable. Harry immediately recalled that this was the girl he and the Grangers saw walk through the portal into Platform 9 ¾ a few hours ago. Her name was Nymphadora but insisted on being called Tonks. He wondered why anyone would want to be referred to as Tonks. Considering her apparel was reminiscent to some of the clothes the teenagers in the neighborhood wore, there was a good chance she was some punk rocker.

"Harry, what is with people coming into our cabin without knocking? Do you think it's normal for people in the wizarding world to not have any manners?" Hermione asked in an oddly serene tone.

Deciding it would be a lot more interesting to play along, Harry replied, "Well, I'm certain that I do have manners, Hermione, but I suppose it is because I am amazing and thus I am the exception."

Tonks finally turned around and from the widening of her eyes, it was clear that she had no idea she had stumbled into their cabin without permission. To her credit, Tonks refrained from appearing embarrassed and said, "You two are a touch bit cheeky for first years."

"Do you want to sit with us for a little bit?" Hermione asked shyly. "Harry and I couldn't help but hear you yell outside."

"So you heard that did you?" Tonks chuckled. "Well, if you don't mind, I would love to sit with you ickle firsties. I'm Nymphadora Tonks, a seventh year," She then narrowed her eyes and took turns glaring at Harry and Hermione, "but I suggest you only call me Tonks and not Nymphadora."

Harry had an excellent remark in mind, but he decided it would be better if he kept it to himself.

Unfazed, Hermione smiled at the older teen and introduced herself, "I'm Hermione Granger, I'm the first in my family to have magic."

Right on cue, it was Harry's turn. "And I'm Harry James Black."

Tonks stared at Harry and asked, "No fooling?"

"Yes, I am also the current Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

"Cor blimey!" Tonks exclaimed in shock. "No fooling?"

Harry raised an eyebrow in question. "Why would I lie?"

A broad grin formed on Tonks. She took a step forward towards Harry but somehow managed to trip on her own feet and fell face first onto the floor. Harry and Hermione winced as they heard the loud thud that erupted when she landed.

"Are you alright, Tonks?" Hermione inquired.

"Alright? ALRIGHT?" Tonks nearly yelled as she shot back up to her feet, surprising the two eleven-year-olds. "I'm _more_ than alright!"

Harry suddenly found himself his neck locked under Tonks's armpit. The teen was whooping and yelling as she drove her first into his hair. Harry saw Hermione frozen in place, not knowing how to react to the sudden change of events. Even he had to admit that he was not prepared for an older witch to put him in a headlock and whooping for joy. All in all, it was a very confusing moment that no sane person could reasonably predict.

Finally, Tonks's grip loosened and he used that moment to escape her clutches. He fell onto his seat as he looked at the bubblegum pink-haired girl wearily. Hermione looked relieved that he had he eluded her grasp. Fortunately, Tonks seemed to have calmed down once she noticed that he was no longer imprisoned under her arm. She turned to him and smiled apologetically.

"Yeah, sorry about what just happened. I tend to get a tad bit overexcited." Tonks confessed with a laugh. "But c'mon! It isn't every day I get to meet a relative that doesn't have a stick up their arse."

Harry and Hermione looked at one another, each asking the other if they find Tonks to be missing a few screws in the head. They both agreed unanimously.

"What do you mean relative?" Harry asked tentatively. Was it possible that Tonks was a Black?

"I'm a Black!" Well, that answered the question. "My mum, Andromeda, was once part of the Black family, but she was disowned for running off and marrying dad because he was a muggle-born and all."

"That's terrible!" Hermione gasped.

"So… _Harry_, who're your parents? Are you the illegitimate, long lost child of good ol' Siri and Reggie before they kicked the bucket?"

Harry knew that Siri probably meant Sirius, but the other name was hardly familiar. It would be easy to claim that he was his godfather's son, but would that be too reckless? Was it safer to say that "Reggie" was his father? However, that didn't really explain who his mother could be.

Tonks then smacked her forehead. "Wait, you don't have to answer! They're dead and it was a little insensitive of me to ask! Forget I asked at all, alright?"

That was one bullet dodged.

"Well, it doesn't matter in any case. I can tell you're not like my other cousin. You aren't a pure-blood supremacist are you?"

Before Harry could answer, Hermione's impassioned voice took away the spotlight. "Harry would never condone such bigotry! He's the nicest person I know!"

Tonks cheered. "I had a feeling you were a good kid! See, we have this one other cousin named Draco Malfoy. He buys into all that pure-blood nonsense. His mother, Narcissa, is my mum's sister and my aunt. That entire family has a stick up their arse. Hey! In fact, he should be in your year! Hopefully you won't meet him, though."

"Nice to know." Harry answered smoothly.

He felt completely overwhelmed with the amount of information Tonks was giving him. However, from what Tonks had said, there were only a handful of members left in the Black family. It was unfortunate, but it certainly played out in his favor. There would be less people to question his legitimacy to the headship. However, he recalled having seen Malfoy in the book about old families. That meant that whoever this Draco Malfoy is, it would mean that he could be a powerful opponent if he ever wanted to take away what he inherited from Sirius Black.

"By the way, Harry, aren't you a little too young to be made the Head of the House? I never heard of something like that happening before." Tonks asked him curiously.

"I'm an orphan." Harry confessed, deciding to omit a few facts. "When I went to Gringotts a few months ago, the goblins told me that I was to inherit the Black family and everything it owns. Thus, I became Lord Black."

"That must have been a nice surprise, becoming rich and all."

Harry nodded in agreement. "However, it wasn't really about the money that grabbed me, it was the fact that I learned that I had a family was what drew me in the most."

He turned to Tonks and flashed a small, warm smile at her.

Tonks couldn't help but wrap her arms around him in a soft embrace. "I know we just met each other and all, but think of me like a big sister, mate! You're a great kid!"

Out of corner of his eye, Harry spotted Hermione frowning at him in disapproval. She was shaking her head and berating him with the expression she adopted. Harry grinned wryly at her, having been found out. It had only taken him a few moments to grasp the basic character that was Nymphadora Tonks. Her behavior suggested that she was a very open and emotional girl albeit a little clumsy. A few choice words to pull at her heart strings and she would be all over him. Thinking about it, Harry definitely needed an older student by his side when he went to Hogwarts to help him and Hermione along for the first few months. Plus, it would be best to be looked upon favorably by his family members.

Meeting Nymphadora Tonks definitely had offset meeting Henry Potter.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: I deliberately reduced the role Ron and Neville plays in the introduction of their characters. I didn't want to detract the readers from Harry and Henry's meeting and thus I decided to expand more on them later on. With that in mind, I tried to draw parallels in the trio akin to that of the Marauders save Pettigrew. For example, I recognize Neville to be the Remus to Ron's Sirius and Henry's James. However, my main concern about this chapter is my characterization of Tonks. I tried rereading almost all of the scenes she appeared in the books, but it's really difficult to understand her character completely. Hopefully, I was able to portray her in a way that is both believable and something you readers will enjoy.

To answer a question someone brought up in the last chapter's review, Sirius Black is presumed dead because there was no body to be found. I realized I should have made that more clear. Also, I noticed that a lot of readers want to know more about James and what his motivations are. While I will not spoil anything, I can say that he is definitely not as evil as some think him to be.

At the risk of losing readers, I want to make mention that it would be some time before we reach the present time in the prologue. We have a lot of things I need to cover before we could reach that point in the story. I don't want to half-ass this story through random flashbacks or other techniques if I were to ever immediately switch over to the present. However, I can guarantee that a lot of interesting things will happen in Years 1 to 4 that are vastly different from what had happened in canon. After all, we have a Harry and Hermione that are similar yet different from their original counterparts.


	8. Together but Divided

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: This chapter was fun to right. Again, I would like to thank Pax Humana, my Beta, for making this chapter several times better than the original draft. Also, I would like to apologize to some of my reviewers who have asked questions in their review but were not given a response. I try my best to reply to many of them, but I sometimes either get too busy or I simply forget. I really do appreciate them and I will strive harder to answer them in the future.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter VII<strong>

**Together but Divided**

Sitting with Tonks was an engaging experience. Because she was in her seventh and final year of Hogwarts, Tonks had a lot of answers to the many questions that Hermione had about the school. It was from her that they learned about O.W.L.s in their fifth year and N.E.W.T.s that Tonks was going to be taking in the spring. Leave it to Hermione to ask more about the education system of Hogwarts than the actual castle and life there.

"Alright, alright, that's enough questions, Hermione!" Tonks groaned exasperatedly.

Hermione pursed her lips and fumed. She furiously replied, "I need to know everything, Tonks! I'm a muggle-born! Everyone else has a huge advantage over me already! How can I stand up against those kids who've been living with magic all their lives?"

Harry chuckled and said, "I don't think it works that way, Hermione."

"He's right, y'know." Tonks agreed. "The rest of the kids won't know anymore than you do."

The younger witch stared at the two of them skeptically, not entirely convinced. Fortunately, Hermione dropped the question and asked another one, "Well, can you at least answer one last question?"

Tonks grinned. "Sure, kiddo. Just one more question, alright?"

Hermione beamed and asked, "How will we be sorted? I've read _Hogwarts, a History _ten times already and it never mentions it!"

"It doesn't show up in that large book of yours? No fooling?"

Hermione nodded.

The older girl suddenly howled in laughter.

"What's so funny?" Hermione inquired, narrowing her eyes at Tonks.

Tonks waved away her concern and replied, "It's nothing. It's a bit of a tradition that no one tells the firsties how they're going to be sorted. Some parents play along and don't tell their kids. I just never knew that they went to such great lengths to hide it to the point they completely excluded that from the book!"

Harry found it slightly humorous. It was no more heinous than not telling your children Father Christmas isn't real or that they were the ones that had placed the presents underneath the Christmas tree. Still, Harry found it ludicrous that they went as far as to refuse to print the information in a legitimate book. However, his main concern at the moment was whether or not Tonks was willing to part with the secret. He was just as curious as Hermione was.

"So," Harry nudged Tonks with his elbow, "are you going to tell us?"

"Why bloody not?" Tonks shrugged her shoulders and smirked.

"Language!" Hermione interjected.

Ignoring Hermione, Tonks began explaining how First Years were sorted, "Basically, all you have to do is sit on a stool and have this talking, old hat place over your head. Then the hat tells you where it thinks you should go."

How extraordinarily strange!

"So a talking, old hat," Hermione repeated slowly, "is placed over my head and then it tells me what House I belong in?"

Tonks nodded. "Sounds about right."

"Don't forget you have to sit down on a stool first." Harry drawled.

"How could I forget? I'm sure sitting on the stool is the most important process of the entire Sorting procedure." Hermione's sarcasm was biting.

"Professor Sprout – my Head of House, by the way – told me when I was your age that all four founders placed a bit of themselves in the hat so that it could make a rightful Sorting." Tonks explained further. "It looks deep down inside you and sees which House would allow you to grow the most in. My mum and dad were a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw respectively. I thought that I would be in one of those two, but the old hat thought that loyalty and determination were my best traits and placed me in good ol' Hufflepuff."

Harry smiled at Hermione and said, "That sounds impressive. Didn't you say the Founders were some of the most talented wizards and witches of their time?"

"As apprehensive I am to allow to a hat to read my mind, it's a whole lot better than what I thought it would be. Can you imagine if the Sorting had something to do with memorizing everything we read in our textbooks?" Hermione asked, aghast.

"If that was the case, then you would be the first Hogwarts student in centuries."

Tonks glanced outside and spotted lights in the distance. "We're almost to Hogsmeade."

"What's Hogsmeade?" Harry asked.

"It's the village at the foot of Hogwarts castle and where the Hogwarts Express stops at. It's a magical village."

"Ooh! Will we visit there sometime?" Hermione excitedly wondered.

"Sorry, kiddo, but you can't come down there until you're Third Years." Tonks shook her head regretfully and stood up to leave. "I have to go and fetch my trunk. You two should start dressing in your robes."

Without missing a beat, Harry and Hermione took the opportunity to do as suggested. Turning their backs to one another, they undressed from their regular clothing and began putting on the garments they needed for their school. Harry found the uniform comfortable, but he had to admit that it would take some time before he would get used to wearing robes. He would be constantly worried he would trip over them and fall flat on his face.

Tonks returned a few minutes later with a trunk floating behind her. Harry was once again impressed with magic and wanted to learn how to do what she did, but the annoyed scowl that marred her otherwise pretty face made him decide to put off asking her until later. He wagered that Tonks met that Truman bloke again. They passed the time with idle chatter. It did not take long before the Hogwarts Express slowed and then ground to the halt at Hogsmeade Station. The blow of the engine's whistle could be heard throughout the train.

"Hey, don't worry about your stuff; they'll appear in your dorm after the Sorting." Tonks mentioned as Harry and Hermione followed after her to the exit. Harry nodded, having heard the official announcement while they had been changing earlier.

Hermione stopped and glanced back at Hedwig, frowning worriedly. "What about Hedwig?"

"Your owl? Well, she'll be fine, I promise. She'll probably be placed up in the Owlery where the other owls go."

That didn't placate Hermione. "But…"

Hedwig hooted in disapproval. The snowy owl glared at Hermione, whipping her head sideways as if she was scoffing.

"Hey! Don't be like that! I'm only worried about you!" Hermione exclaimed to Hedwig.

As amusing as it was to watch Hermione fight with an owl, Harry was ecstatic to finally reach Hogwarts. He pulled Hermione away from their cabin and followed closely behind Tonks. Once they stepped outside, it was clear that they were in Scotland. Although it was only September, the air was crisp and slightly windy. It was a cool night, leaving Harry to wonder if summer ever came at all to the Scottish countryside.

"Firs' Years! Firs' Years over here!" boomed a loud, thundering voice not far off from where Harry stood.

Harry turned to the source of the voice and found a rather large man with shaggy, long black hair and a beard holding up a lamp nearby. The First Years that had already hobbled over were greatly dwarfed in comparison to the gigantic man. He was wide as he was tall and Harry could not help but stare at the hulking figure before him.

"That's Hagrid, he's the groundskeeper. Big guy isn't he?" Tonks mentioned. "Well, this is where we part."

"How will you get to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked her.

"I'm taking the carriage with the other older students. You two are going there the once in a lifetime way. I'm not going to spoil it for you, because it's going to be something you will never forget."

Harry turned to Tonks and asked, "What do you mean?"

Tonks grinned and winked. "You'll see."

After promising to see them again, Tonks waved goodbye to Harry and Hermione and walked towards a group of older students that she knew.

"C'mon, follow me – any more Firs' Years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' Years follow me!"

Smiling broadly in excitement, Harry took hold of Hermione's hand and began dragging her to the rest of the First Years and the Hogwarts groundskeeper leading them. Hagrid led the students down a steep, narrow path between a thicket of trees that was utterly dark save for the stars overhead and the light of the lamp guiding them. It was quiet. Harry found it odd that no one was speaking.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

The children gasped in awe.

"Harry, look!" Hermione spoke breathlessly.

The First Years stood at the end of path which appeared to be at the edge of a great black lake. Beyond the lake, perched atop a high mountain, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with numerous towers. It twinkled in the far-off distance; the clear, dark sky filled with stars twinkled in the backdrop of the magnificent castle. It was glorious sight to behold, rendering Harry speechless.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, gesturing to several little boats in the water by the shore.

Not far from where they stood, Harry and Hermione heard Henry and his two friends.

"Got Trevor, Nev?" Henry asked Neville.

Neville nodded, raising his hands to reveal a toad clasped between them. "He's a slippery bugger, isn't he?"

"Couldn't your mum have gotten you an owl instead of a toad? It's not like anyone actually brings toads along as pets nowadays."

"It wasn't from my mum, Ron! My Great-Uncle Algie gave Trevor to me!"

Harry stopped paying much attention to the conversation further.

"C'mon, Harry!" Hermione dragged him over to a boat opposite of where Henry and his friends chose to sit in.

Harry and Hermione were joined by two girls not long after. With the little light they had, Harry regarded the two girls with an appraising eye. One was a blonde with long, straight hair that cascaded past her waist; she sported a bored expression. The other was the opposite; she had black, wavy hair that cropped slightly below her neck and was grinning from ear to ear. The smiling girl politely asked if she and her friend could board alongside them and before he could answer, Hermione gave her approval. Instead of a verbal acceptance, Harry simply nodded.

"By the way, I'm Tracey Davis!" The black haired girl introduced herself.

"It's nice to meet you, Tracey. I'm Hermione Granger. Who's your friend?" Hermione replied eagerly.

The blonde girl glowered at Hermione and turned her head sideways. Hermione's smile did not falter, but her lips had lightly twitched from the snub.

Tracey frowned and smiled apologetically at Hermione. "Sorry, her name is Daphne Greengrass. Don't take it personally, but Daphne is a bit of an insufferable genius from time to time. She's this way to _everyone_."

"Tracey, I would very much like it if you do not introduce me in such a condescending way." Daphne spoke in a soft, melodic voice. She turned to Harry and asked, "Now who might you be?"

Harry found himself a little annoyed by this Daphne Greengrass. However, remembering his lesson from meeting Henry, he once again adopted the polite, aloof mask he always used when meeting new people. In a dull drawl, Harry made his identity known, "Harry James Black. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Greengrass."

He searched for signs of a reaction to the Black name, but Harry found that the girl had as much of a poker face as he did. With a similar tone, Greengrass replied, "Likewise, Black."

The air became noticeably tense.

"So, um, Tracey, are you a first generation witch as well?" Hermione asked out of the blue.

"Oh, no, I'm not, actually." Tracey answered, smiling gratefully at Hermione for the change in topic. "My mother was a muggle-born but my father was a pure-blood. In fact…"

The two began discussing random topics from there. Meanwhile, Harry and Greengrass remained gazing at one another, silently studying the other for any signs of weakness.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself, "Right then – FORWARD!"

The fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across lake, which was as smooth as glass. The tension was forgotten and the nervous chattering of Tracey and Hermione ended in response to the magnificent view of the castle that was slowly drawing near. Even Harry found himself struck by the sight of Hogwarts castle.

* * *

><p>Talking portraits, moving suits of armor, walls glowing with no sign of torches or light bulbs, ghosts wondering jovially throughout the walls, and a ceiling that featured the night sky were some of the things Harry and Hermione noticed upon their entry into the castle. They, along with the other First Years, had taken everything they had seen so far with wondrous awe. Hermione was practically bouncing on her heels when she pointed up at the ceiling of the Great Hall, reminding him again and again that she had read of it in <em>Hogwarts, a History<em>.

After they had reached the doors that would bring them inside Hogwarts castle, Hagrid handed them off to Professor McGonagall, a tall, stern-looking witch around her sixties dressed in emerald green robes. She led them through corridors where they encountered various things that should not be physically possible. However, Harry now believed that with magic, anything was possible. He was no longer as shocked by the things he saw, but he was still very much enthralled whenever he saw it.

Their little tour ended once they had reached the large double doors that led into the Great Hall where Professor McGonagall would then enter and temporarily leave them behind to presumably set up the Sorting Ceremony that was about to take place. His assumption was correct and Professor McGonagall led them inside the Great Hall a few minutes later where they were treated to the entrance of the ghosts and the beautiful aesthetics of the Great Hall.

"This is real. This is _all _real." Harry muttered underneath his breath.

"Of course it is, Harry. What did you think it was?"

Harry turned to Hermione and found her smiling coyly. A bashful grin emerged and he turned slightly away, embarrassed that she had caught him in a vulnerable state. Nevertheless, Harry answered her, "I was afraid that when we got here, _this _would all be fake – a huge lie."

"Well, if it was, then someone has too much time and money on their hands to make such a very elaborate prank."

Harry had to admit, that was a good point.

He glanced around the four tables filled with older students, searching for a certain bubblegum pink haired teen amongst the crowd. It did not take long for him to find her. Her hair stood out like a sore thumb, after all. Tonks waved at him from afar, her large smile nearly reaching her eyes.

Harry then saw Professor McGonagall place a flour legged stool in front of the First Years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. The hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Remembering what Tonks said, Harry could only assume that this was the Sorting Hat she was talking about. It was not impressive by any means and he began to doubt if what Tonks said had any weight to it at all.

Then, the hat twitched and a rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth – and the hat began to sing.

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you out to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_"

It felt surreal to find a talking hat singing its heart out. Thunderous applause roared throughout the Great Hall at the end of its song. Harry idly wondered if he had stepped into a world where cartoon physics somehow applied. He had watched many shows on the telly where they had talking apparel. Was it even possible to have a hat sing? Where were its vocal chords? Inside it?

"Tonks was right!" Hermione shouted in a hushed whisper. "It _is _an old hat!"

Harry grinned. Well, it was better than doing a test or wrestling a troll as someone speculated before they entered the Great Hall. If all they had to do was place the hat on and it reads their mind, he would be fine with that. However, he certainly hoped that the Sorting Hat was not a gossip. He was letting that thing in his mind and there were some things he thought that would be better off left unsaid by him and by others. He wondered where he would go. Harry knew he can be brave when warranted, loyal when it suited him, and he had a passion for learning – though not at the same level as Hermione. As for being cunning… that was his default state of mind.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said.

Lord Harry James Black, Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, froze. Losing control of himself, his eyes widened with the realization that his debut could potentially be ruined. Earlier that summer, the goblins had sent him the letter that confirmed they had completed his request. To what extent, however, Harry did not know. For all he knew, the school records were unchanged and here he was still considered Harry Potter. He did not like that prospect one bit.

"Abbott, Hannah." Professor McGonagall called.

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails strode past him. She sat on the stool and fumbled putting the hat on her. Harry, however, ignored the event. His mind was still worried what he would have to do if his name was exposed. As immature and childish it may be, he did not want it known that he was related to Henry and James Potter nor did he want to claim that he was just a muggle-born that coincidentally had the same last name as the Boy Who Lived; that would destroy the legitimacy of his inheritance.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

Tonks's table cheered and clapped as Hannah got up from the stool and went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry remained oblivious to the events surrounding him. His mind was too focused on the consequences of being discovered that he was a Potter.

"Black, Harry!"

Harry shot up from his contemplation and stared ahead. Professor McGonagall had actually called him by his new name! Not delaying any further, Harry rushed to sit on the stool. The goblins had certainly exceeded his expectations. He almost felt guilty for having manipulated them in the first place. The Sorting Hat was placed over his head, completely engulfing his vision that he only saw the black inside the hat.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes – and a very large thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?"

Harry marveled that the hat could talk. He hadn't heard the hat speak when it had been placed over Hannah Abbott's head, leaving him to believe that the hat was speaking directly into his mind. How magical! He gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _If it's no problem, I have full confidence with any decision you make._

"Oh?" said the small voice. "No preference whatsoever? Well, I certainly see many fine qualities within you. You will do great in any House I place you, indeed. Your courage is remarkable, daring and strong in the face of adversity. Your loyalty and determination to your friends are only matched by your unwavering intellectual curiosity. Where to put you… where to put you… Ah! I know! I am not particularly fond with how old Salazar's House has been doing as of late, maybe you can do something about it. It's a risk, but I can see you excel in it. So, if not Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw – better be SLYTHERIN!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and stood up from the stool. The House tables were clapping and cheering in congratulations but none were more enthusiastic than the Slytherin table itself. Adopting a confident stance, he strode towards the Slytherin table with the refined gait he had practiced with Hermione during the summer. The Slytherins welcomed him into the fold and made room for him to sit at the table.

From where he sat, Harry found he was able to see the High Table – the table where the faculty sat – more clearly than when he had been with the other First Years. Sitting on a golden, throne-like chair in the center of the table was an old man with a long, silver beard and hair wearing a flamboyant set of robes. He wore half-moon spectacles that rested easily on his nose with clear, blue eyes that twinkled merrily. Harry recognized him immediately from the books he and Hermione had read over the summer and knew him to be the famous Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and other important-sounding positions he did not care to remember at the moment.

He found that the Headmaster was staring at him with a peculiar expression before he turned away to refocus on the Sorting Ceremony. Harry found it odd that the Headmaster stared at him in such a way and pondered if he knew his true origins. It was a possibility considering the Goblins may have met with him to change his records. He pushed those thoughts away and decided to enjoy himself. After all, it was almost Hermione's turn.

* * *

><p>Hermione beamed proudly at Harry when he confidently began walking towards his new House's table. Though he prided himself on containing his feelings, Hermione had caught the hint of a smile that had been on his face when he stood from the stool. She had clapped and cheered louder than all of the tables, earning her a few strange looks from the other First Years that witnessed her doing so. She hardly cared though, Hermione was simply happy for her best friend.<p>

Her new friend, Tracey, walked past her when her name was called. She was a nice girl and had been very easy to talk to despite the awkward tension that erupted because of Harry and Daphne. Being at Hogwarts meant a new chance to make new friends and it was clear that she was succeeding. All her worries had been unfounded and she felt that if she kept at it, then slowly she could change herself and her life for the better! Plus, more friends meant a larger study group to pass their tests and make good grades on their homework!

"SLYTHERIN!" shouted the hat.

Tracey proceeded to walk to the Slytherin table and went to sit next to Harry. More names were called but Hermione was wondering too much where she would be placed to pay them much attention. She wouldn't mind if she ended up with Harry, but it was obvious she didn't have the cunning that he had. Well, it didn't matter if they weren't in the same House. They would practically be living together for the next ten months. It wouldn't be hard to meet up with him. It was already obvious that there would be House rivalries if some of the whispers of the other First Years were to be believed but that was inconsequential, all things considered.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione barreled from the collective of eleven-year-olds and eagerly sat at the stool, placing the Sorting Hat over her head.

"Oh dear," a quiet voice said, "Quite the enthusiastic one aren't you?"

She gasped and thought, _You can talk in my mind!_

"I can do more than that! I can sing too if you want."

_Err – no thanks. I heard you sing and I'm not a fan. _Hermione thought back, lightly blushing at her blunt honesty.

The hat sighed. "You're not the first and certainly not the last to have said that. Now, where shall I place you? You have quite the mind, fitting for a potential member of Ravenclaw!"

_Oh, thank you very much, Mr. Hat. _Hermione was always pleased to be complimented about her intellect. _I don't mind where you put me. It's up to you isn't it? You _are _the Sorting Hat._

"Too right! Too right!" The hat barked in laughter. "Well, while I know for certain that Ravenclaw will do wonders for you, I think you're far braver than you believe yourself to be. Yes, yes. You will be a dashing GRYFFINDOR!"

Professor McGonagall removed the Sorting Hat from her head and Hermione saw the strict-looking professor smile kindly at her. Beaming herself, Hermione hastily made her way towards the Gryffindor table, somewhat embarrassed by the enthusiastic cheer they were giving her. She glanced to the far table where the Slytherin House sat and looked for Harry. Instead of the smile she had been expecting, an aloof expression was present on his features. In the eyes of the others, many would have believed that Harry didn't care, but Hermione knew better. Harry was devastated.

Guilt washed over her that she had been happy when the Sorting Hat sorted her into Gryffindor and thus separating her from Harry. It was unexpected, but Hermione was more than pleased that the Sorting Hat saw her for more than just her brains. It was as if the Sorting Hat wanted her to cultivate something other than her intellect. Still, the reality was sinking in that she was not together with Harry like how they wanted it to be. Hermione reminded herself that it was not too long ago that she thought things would be fine. Hadn't she resolved that things would not change just because they were in different Houses? Hermione decided she would remain optimistic and that she would talk about it with Harry the next time they had a chance!

Hermione watched the remainder of the Sorting Ceremony. To her displeasure, Neville Longbottom was sorted into Gryffindor. Two older identical looking boys with red hair cheered enthusiastically at his inclusion. More names were called and some others were sorted into Gryffindor. However, the main event that everyone presumably was waiting for came when Professor McGonagall shouted, "Potter, Henry!"

Henry Potter strode cockily towards the stool, grinning boyishly as he sat and placed the Sorting Hat over his head. The hat was barely over his head before it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

At the cry of the hat, the identical red-haired twins stood up on their seats and yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

More whooping and yelling occurred at the Gryffindor table and Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes when Henry Potter was practically waving and bowing at his 'fans'. She wanted to gag. To her displeasure, he chose to sit across from her with Neville in tow.

"Hey Granger! Looks like we're in the same House." Henry announced pompously. "You're in good hands! Like I told you, Black is a Slytherin and all Slytherins are evil! It's a fact!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the Boy Who Lived to Annoy Her and growled, "Just so you know, I have two friends in Slytherin now. Tracey and Harry are good people and that just proves that Slytherins aren't evil. Before you call something a fact, maybe you should actually check what you want to say and think before you stick your foot in your mouth!"

The few Gryffindors that had heard her gasped. Hermione soon realized that she had just insulted their would-be savior. Still, she did not regret saying what she did.

"Ooh, is ickle Henrikins having girl troubles?" said one of the twins that suddenly appeared on her right.

"Impressive! A girl who isn't completely fascinated with the 'great' Henry Potter." said the other twin that appeared on her left.

Henry stuck out his tongue and replied, "She'll think I'm awesome soon enough!"

The twins laughed and then turned their attention solely on her. Both twins surrounded her, mirroring the other as they both suddenly leaned down and rested their elbows on the table.

"Hi, I'm Fred." introduced the one on her right.

"Hi, I'm George." introduced the one on her left.

"We're the amazing Weasley twins." Fred said.

"Though I'm the handsome one." George said.

"Handsome? I thought I was the handsome one. You're the sensitive one."

"Sensitive? I'm as sensitive as a rock."

"At least the rock won't stick its foot in its mouth like Henry over there."

"You have me there, Fred."

Hermione felt her neck strain as she bounced her head back and forth from the exchange.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat shouted.

All turned their heads and cheered when Ronald Weasley hurriedly walked to the table and took his place next to Henry. A Gryffindor Prefect with red hair complimented him for a job well-done. His hair was red like the twins and Ron, leading Hermione to assume that they were all related. Though she was less than enthused that Ron was sorted into Gryffindor as well (allowing Henry to annoy her further with his two friends behind him), she sighed in relief when the twins' attention on her waned and were now focused on teasing Ron. Thankfully, Henry and Neville had chosen to ignore her in order to talk to their friend.

The final name was called and Blaise Zabini made his way over to Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. She later returned to sit at the High Table, taking her seat in the empty chair next to the Headmaster. Albus Dumbledore got up to his feet, beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sat back down. Almost everybody clapped and cheered. Hermione merely stared at the Headmaster, wondering if the old man was right in the head. She was led to believe in her reading that Albus Dumbledore was a very intelligent and respected figure in the wizarding world. However, maybe he was getting on in his years and was slowly becoming senile? He reminded her of her grandfather before he died. He had been a little senile before the end too.

Her stomach growled and Hermione looked around the table at the bounty of food that was laid out before her. Enough thinking about crazy old men, she was hungry.

* * *

><p>The Slytherin common room was… interesting.<p>

The location of the common room was in the cellars behind one of the walls. A password was needed to open the wall that would reveal a passage into the common room. With that being said, the common room itself certainly was befitting for the House. The common room had low ceilings and was dungeon-like with greenish lamps and chairs. It extended partway under the lake (or so one of the Prefects said), giving the light in the room a green tinge. The atmosphere of the room was grand, but it felt impersonal and cold. It was a home fitting for a snake.

"Hey Harry. Don't you think the Headmaster seemed a little barmy?" Tracey asked him, attempting to make conversation.

The Slytherin Prefects led them to the Slytherin common room and told them to wait for their Head of House. They didn't even answer any questions several of the First Years had asked and simply repeated to wait until their Head of House arrived.

Harry turned to Tracey and shrugged. "A little."

"What was he thinking in the first place? If he doesn't want students snooping around, he shouldn't have mentioned the third-floor corridor!"

It was then that Greengrass came up to their group and made her opinion known. "It's better if he had said that than not to warn anyone at all. What if someone stumbled onto it without having been warned and died a horrible death? Then it would be the Headmaster's fault since he didn't warn anyone about it."

That was exactly what Harry thought as well. While he would certainly not want to endanger himself by foolishly going there, he doubted many of the other students would have the maturity to actually take heed of the warning.

"If you ask me, I think Dumbledore should just up and resign. My father says he's not fit to run a school or anything for that matter!" A pompous, blonde haired boy said, striding over to Harry, Tracey, and Greengrass. Behind him were two large boys that hovered protectively near him.

The boy shoved his hand up to Harry and said, "I'm Draco Malfoy. I know that you're Harry Black. My mother was a Black, so I guess this means that we're cousins. You seem like the right sort to me."

Harry remembered what Tonks said about Draco Malfoy and already he understood what she meant. His appearance spoke volumes of his family's wealth and status. It did not help that Draco shared a similar obnoxious personality with a certain Potter as well. Already he disliked Draco and this was the first time they spoke! Still, playing the part as Lord Black, Harry politely took his hand and shook it.

"Well met, Draco." Harry stated neutrally.

Draco's smile broadened but it quickly transformed into a sneer when he turned to Tracey and Greengrass. "You know, Greengrass, you shouldn't be hanging around with that half-blood."

Tracey glared at Malfoy and scowled. "Watch what you say, Malfoy!"

"Like I'm afraid of you, Davis. Just because we're in the same House, it doesn't mean you get any of _my _respect." Draco said snobbishly.

Greengrass crossed her arms and responded apathetically, "It is my decision with whom I choose to spend my time. Your opinion is not needed."

Harry had to admit that he certainly gained more respect for the cold girl.

"Suit yourself." Draco drawled. He turned away from the two girls and gave Harry his attention once more. "Hey, why don't you come with me to _my_ group and leave these two alone? I'm sure you will fit right in."

Harry gazed over to the only other First Year group that was currently talking amongst themselves. Theodore Nott, Blaize Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and Millicent Bulstrode were over in the corner far from where he was standing. Harry turned back to Draco and soon realized that the boy, despite his 'charming' personality, currently had the reputation and influence he wanted to have. It would do well for him to take up on his offer and earn himself a place among the other housemates of his year.

Unfortunately, by doing so, it would mean he would isolate himself from Tracey and Greengrass. Although he knew there was friction between him and Greengrass, Harry found himself beginning to think of both girls as friends. If there was one thing that Harry would not do, it was betraying his friends. It would have been easy years ago to stop associating himself with Hermione when others began to pick on him for befriending her, but he had not. He did not do it then and he certainly would not do it now.

"Maybe some other time, Draco. It would be ungentlemanly of me to leave them when I had already promised to talk to them." Harry answered Draco with a calm yet assertive tone. After carefully examining Draco, he looked and acted the part of a spoiled brat of an aristocratic pure-blood family. However, that also meant that propriety and manners presumably had been instilled into him since birth. It was a gamble, but what was life without its risk?

Draco regarded him quietly, but the understanding was there in his eyes. He smirked confidently and nodded. "Well, that's too bad. Some other time then?"

"I am looking forward to it."

Draco left with the oafish-looking boys following close behind him. Harry recalled that the other two that had been sorted into Slytherin was Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. They didn't look particularly cunning or ambitious; Harry had to wonder how they had been sorted into Slytherin in the first place.

"That was an excellent tactic, Black." Greengrass commented behind him. "Although he doesn't exercise it, he knows etiquette."

"Would have been better if you had just told him off." Tracey spat. "He's disliked me for years."

"So you know him?" Harry inquired.

"Know him? We practically grew up together." Tracey explained. "Almost everyone here already knows each other. The only mystery here is you, Harry."

"I prefer if you called me Black."

"Eh? Why?"

"It sounds better."

Truthfully, Harry felt only Hermione had the right to call him by his first name, she was his best friend and they had been through everything together.

"Silence." a cold, soft voice echoed from the entrance into the common room.

A thin man with sallow skin and a large, hook nose strode into the common room. He wore dark robes with the cape billowing behind him as he walked. He had shoulder-length, greasy black hair that framed his face. His lips were curled and his dark, penetrating eyes that resembled tunnels peered at them menacingly. There was no warmth or kindness in them. Though he was not particularly tall, the man had a strong, authoritative presence as evidenced by conversations of the First Years ending soon after he gave the word.

"Gather around. Do not delay." He spoke once more as he stood in front of the fireplace.

The First Years immediately began assembling in front of him, afraid to catch the dark man's ire. It was obvious that this man was the Slytherin Head of House. Harry found the hook-nosed man staring at him most of all and it unnerved him greatly. He could not recall having done anything to warrant his attention already.

"I am Severus Snape,"

Harry looked up and stared at the man. It was the friend of his mother's that his aunt had been talking about!

"As of today, you are now members of Slytherin. I am the Potions Master of Hogwarts. I am also your Head of House and therefore, I am _responsible_," He sneered, "for you all. As members of this House, I expect many things from all of you. All of you are expected to follow the rules of this school. All of you are expected to maintain a passing grade. Failure to do so will result in a punishment of my choosing."

There was a gulp heard behind Harry.

"All of you are expected to ensure that everything you do will be for the good of the House. I will not baby you, so please do not come crying to me over things you cannot handle on your own when I know for certain you actually can. I also expect all of you to earn points for your House so that we may win the coveted House cup.

"Also, I will not publicly deduct points from my own House. To do so will show that we are divided and that is something I will not allow those of other Houses to believe. Such a show would encourage others to believe we are weak, and invite attack. However, I promise that if I catch wind of any of your misconduct or I am forced to witness a blatant example of stupidity within my own classroom, points will be severely deducted in private and I will post who had disgraced the House on the common room's message board.

"That is all I have to say. If you have any questions, you will talk to one of the Prefects." Professor Snape's look indicated the Prefects nearby. "Escort them to their dorm."

The Prefects did as he ordered and began corralling the First Years. Harry remained rooted where he stood, his gaze following after Severus Snape, studying him carefully. He was definitely not what he had expected his mother's friend would be like, but as far as first impressions go, he already earned his respect. Still, Harry was left to wonder how this man became best friends with his mother.

That was a mystery he hoped to solve soon.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: So, in conclusion, we have a Severus Snape seen through the eyes of a member of his House, a Neville that still has a mother (no, it was not a mistake), a Dumbledore curious about Harry (yet it remains unknown to how much he knows), and the First Year Slytherins are already divided into two distinct parties. For all those that want to immediately come back to the timeline in Fifth Year, do you still think things will go relatively similar to that of canon? I hope that my showing you these changes, I can urge you to continue reading and enjoy the ride. Also, please ignore the alert for the next chapter. I made a mistake while I was uploading this one.


	9. Toppling Dominoes

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: Took me a little over two weeks for me to finish this up. Again, I give my thanks to Pax Humana for being my Beta. I'm sure without him this chapter would have been a lot worse. I also love the speculation on whether or not Harry and Daphne will get together. It's always fun to ship people in stories, right? That's why we read fan fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter VIII<strong>

**Toppling Dominoes**

Harry entered the Great Hall for breakfast on the first day of term. He had woken up much too early, but that was fine with him. He wanted to avoid the other boys in his year for now. After meeting Draco last night, he now knew he needed to find a way to gain their favor without cutting off all ties with Tracey and Greengrass. Harry knew he had to maneuver carefully or else he would risk harming his chances to even be with one side or the other. Fortunately, he did confirm one thing. Draco Malfoy was currently his biggest threat to his goals.

Crabbe, Goyle, Bulstrode, and Nott were minor pure-blood families that had been mentioned in his book about old families, but they were not quite as distinguished as several others. If anything, the only thing they had to their name was their wealth. While certainly not on par to the Black or Malfoy fortune, it was still plenty in comparison to the average person. Vincent and Gregory hardly appeared intelligent; they appeared content with following Draco. Theodore, on the other hand, was a wild card and it would be some time before he could draw an accurate analysis. Same went for Millicent. Harry had never heard of Parkinson or Zabini, but it was better for now to assume that they were pure-bloods and that Pansy and Blaise were loyal to Draco.

As for Tracey and Greengrass, he had never heard of the Davis family, but he did know of the Greengrass family. If what he had read was true, their affluence rivaled the Malfoys. It certainly made sense why Draco was willing to approach her despite her rebuffs. Speaking of Greengrass, Harry surprisingly found her at the Slytherin table eating breakfast.

"You're up early." Harry said as he took the seat opposite of her.

Greengrass looked up from her meal, staring at him with scrutiny. She properly swallowed her food and responded, "The same can be said of you, Black."

"I'm used to waking up early. It's a good habit to get into, especially with term starting." Harry answered her silent question.

"True." Greengrass agreed. "I have the same inclination."

"Is that why you're not with Tracey?"

"Yes. She has the tendency to oversleep. I intend to wake her from her slumber after I finish my breakfast." Greengrass raised her napkin and primly wiped her lips on it. "Also, Black, please do not presume that just because Tracey and I are close friends, we are always together."

Harry inwardly frowned and replied, "I was not under that impression, Greengrass."

"Good. Be sure that you continue such thoughts. What I said was merely a warning. Now, if you would excuse me."

Greengrass sat up from the table, having finished her breakfast, and began leaving the Great Hall. Harry stared after her, feeling irritation well up in the back of his mind after having conversed with the girl. Though he certainly gained respect for her, Harry still did not like her one bit. He took out his annoyance on his breakfast, eating it quickly and quite gruffly.

Fortunately, his irritation melted away a quarter of an hour later when he caught sight of a familiar, bushy-haired girl arriving in the Great Hall. Banishing any more thoughts of Greengrass, Harry left his half-eaten meal and made his way towards Hermione. She caught sight of him and she was quickly approaching as well. Before he could say a word in greeting, Hermione assaulted him with a hug that once again took his breath away.

"It's so good to see you, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed gaily.

"I'm glad you're in good spirits, Hermione. However," Harry wheezed, "it would be lovely if you let me go."

Thankfully, Hermione did.

"Sorry, I just missed you!"

"Missed me?" Harry asked quizzically. "We were just together yesterday."

"I know, but we were sorted apart. It's not the same if we're not in the same House! You looked so sad at the ceremony."

It soon dawned on Harry that he had not been as subtle with his emotions as he thought. Remembering the previous night, he recalled his face falling when Hermione had been sorted into Gryffindor. He had sincerely wished that they had been in the same House, but the Sorting Hat appeared to have other plans for them.

"Hermione, I'm fine, really." Harry assured her. "Just because we're in different Houses, it doesn't mean we'll stop spending time together."

"I know, but…"

"Just think of it like I'm still living with my aunt and uncle and you with your parents. We're like next door neighbors still."

Hermione's apprehension had been clear on her face. At his reasoning, Hermione beamed. Harry lightly smiled, thankful that he was able to stave off the sadness that had been threatening to take over Hermione. Though he had been disappointed, it had only taken him a quick reminder that their Houses did not affect who they were to one another. They were still best friends.

"Now, Hermione, how about we try looking for the famous Hogwarts library after you have breakfast?"

"Oh! That would be marvelous!" Hermione's eyes lit up with eagerness. "I'm not very hungry… so let's go now!"

Harry chuckled. Some things would never change.

* * *

><p>By Friday, Harry had already settled into a small routine. He would wake up early in the morning, two hours before classes, and have breakfast. After a thirty-minute meal, Harry would visit Hermione's table and they would leave for the Hogwarts library to read or to look over their assigned homework until classes began. Of course, sometimes they wouldn't do any of that and would simply talk. It was these mornings that always made Harry feel the most refreshed and ready to begin the day.<p>

His classes were all very interesting. Professor Flitwick was definitely not exaggerating when he mentioned that each of his classes would be fun. Sure, there were quite a number of things he disliked about certain classes. He did not like staying up until midnight for Astronomy, he disliked getting dirty when working with the plants and fungi in Herbology, the smell of garlic in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom gave him a headache, and History of Magic had a monotonous lecturer that almost always made him want to fall asleep. It was far from perfect, but he overlooked them since he loved learning new things from them all the same.

It amused him when he realized how much he was becoming like Hermione when it came to school. Harry always maintained high grades since he studied often, but he never before had the same excitement towards lessons like his best friend.

"Harry? Are you listening, Harry?"

Hermione's voice cut through his thoughts, immediately derailing what he had been thinking. Caught by surprise, his guard slipped and his eyes widened as his head turned to Hermione. She was glaring at him pointedly.

"Honestly, Harry, it's not very polite of you to ignore me."

Harry smiled apologetically and said, "I'm sorry, Hermione. My thoughts were elsewhere. What were you saying? Something about Potter having done something heinous?"

Hermione accepted his apology and continued, "Yes! It infuriates me that Potter was able to be the second person after me to turn his matchstick into a needle _despite _doing nothing but goof off all class time!"

"Well," Harry lowered his Potions book, "maybe he has a knack for it? You took to fencing real well when you first started."

"That's different! I actually pay attention! Potter doesn't seem to care about his education at all. Doesn't he understand these next seven years will be the most important years of our lives? Without learning all that we can, how can be we expected to function properly in society after Hogwarts?"

A chuckle escaped Harry's throat as he glanced jovially at his best friend.

"Now, aside from Potter and his two friends, how are you getting along with the rest of your House?" He inquired curiously.

At his question, Hermione's eyes lit up with delight. She replied, "Wonderful! Everyone is so nice! I'm getting along well with the other girls in my dorm. They're a little girly for my tastes, but they're very open and honest! I was worried that I wouldn't get along with them at first, but it seems I was just being paranoid. We nearly ended up talking until morning that first night we were here."

Harry was very happy to hear that. He had his concerns, but it appeared he had nothing to be concerned about at all.

"What about you, Harry? Have you made any friends in Slytherin?"

Truthfully, Harry had yet to make any leeway integrating himself with Draco and his party. He had earned points for the House in classes, hoping that showing off his intellectual prowess would have the group sans Draco to interact with him. Alas, only Draco was the only one willing to talk to him. He had managed to fend off his invitations to completely abandon Tracey and Greengrass, but he was unsure how long that would last.

The only ace he had up his sleeve currently was his status as Lord Black. However, he did not want Draco snooping around as to how that could be. Draco had yet to prove if he could be trusted with such knowledge. Harry knew for certain that unveiling this truth to the others would have a considerable impact as to how they would view him, but it was not worth the risk given the circumstances.

Still, it was only a few days since the school year began. Like Tracey had said, he was a stranger to everyone. They were not going to embrace him so easily when they each know each other prior to their Hogwarts education. He simply had to be patient and make his move when the moment was right. After all, Uncle Vernon said it was better to butter up the mark before offering them the deal.

"It's only been a few days." Harry told Hermione. "Apparently, all of them have known each other for years, and were childhood friends to some extent. They're probably uneasy that I intruded into their little world."

Hermione frowned.

"What about Tracey and Daphne?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and inquired, "What about them?"

"Aren't you friends with them?"

"Of course I am. What made you think otherwise?"

"Honestly," Hermione sighed exasperatedly, "by the tone of your voice, it seemed like you didn't consider them as such."

Harry shrugged.

"I just assumed you meant if I had made any friends other than them. Despite Greengrass's rather… _charming _personality, I prefer her and Tracey's company over the others in my year."

By the end of his statement, Harry found Hermione to be smiling coyly. He narrowed his eyes at her, wondering what in the world had caused her to look so mischievous.

"You like Daphne." Hermione said confidently.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You. Like. Daphne." She said again slowly.

Harry merely stared at Hermione as she made her accusation. For the life of him, Harry had no idea how Hermione was able to come to this conclusion. In fact, he was certain Hermione did not follow any logical thought to lead to that observation. Perhaps Hermione was suffering a breakdown of her critical thinking skills in light of her interaction with magic and its world?

"Hermione, I'm eleven." Harry reasoned. "I'm not supposed to like girls yet."

She nodded, taking in his argument. Harry assumed that was the end of that, but he was sorely mistaken when she replied, "That may be true, Harry. However, it is entirely possible for you to have developed an attraction towards her considering that each individual has a different rate of growth. In actuality, your age is about right to start its process to becoming a young adult."

Harry closed his Potions textbook. It was time to get serious.

"I admit that is a valid statement. Unfortunately, as an outside observer of my thought process and emotional consciousness, you are unable to accurately measure whether or not I have developed affection beyond the realm of friendship for Greengrass."

"However, considering the vast unconsciousness of the human mind, it can be difficult to ascertain yourself whether or not you do feel attraction towards an individual of the opposite sex. For all we know, you probably do have feelings but are unable to recognize them."

"Let's assume you are correct," Harry said with a sigh, "what evidence is there to show that I do?"

At his question, the cat-like grin that was on Hermione's face broadened even further.

"Because I know you like smart girls and you're treating her the same way as you did with Catherine Prescott from our Year Five class. You remember her, don't you? The pretty blonde girl that you had a crush on after she usurped your position as second smartest student in school."

Yes, he remembered Catherine Prescott well. She was his first love, but she moved away after a year. Not only was she very pretty, she reminded him of Hermione in that she was very driven with her thirst for knowledge and academic success.

"Nevertheless, I do not have a crush on Daphne Greengrass."

Behind him, Harry heard a giggle. At the sound of that, he swiftly turned around and found Tracey and Greengrass standing behind him. Tracey was the one giggling and to his surprise, Greengrass shared a similar grin that Hermione had, a far cry from her typical icy disposition.

"How long have you two been listening?" He asked evenly, trying his best to rein in the scowl that was threatening to spill.

"Not long," Tracey answered him, "we just got here at the part where you said you didn't have a crush on Daphne."

"Tracey! Daphne! Good morning!" Hermione greeted them warmly. "Daphne, don't you think Harry will make a good boyfriend for you? Maybe we're still a little young, but in a few years, you can try it."

Daphne's cool gaze fell on Harry whom felt like he was a canine being inspected at a dog show. She took a step forward and immediately closed the distance between his face and hers, mere centimeters of empty space between them being the only thing preventing their foreheads from colliding.

After a few more seconds, Daphne hummed in disapproval and backed away. Her smile was gone and she replied in her usual indifferent tone, "I can't deny that Black is very handsome for his age and though I must admit that I do feel a physical attraction towards him, his character leaves a lot to be desired. Thank you for the offer, Hermione, but I'm afraid I have to decline. He infuriates me too much."

His male ego having been damaged, Harry rolled his eyes and retaliated with a remark, "I feel the same towards you, Greengrass."

"What brings you two here?" Hermione asked.

"Daphne wanted to find a book about Transfiguration." Tracey explained.

"Oh, I know just the book!"

Hermione stood up from her seat and hurriedly went around it, grabbing Greengrass by the wrist and dragging her off into the many aisles. Harry watched the scene in amusement, chuckling as Greengrass was forced to endure Hermione's love of books.

"I think Daphne likes Hermione." Tracey said, sitting down at the table in the chair beside him. "Normally, she wouldn't let herself be hauled away like that."

"So what really brings you here, Tracey? Is Draco causing you trouble again?"

Tracey frowned and nodded, answering his question. Harry had learned that it wasn't Tracey's half-blood status that made her Draco's target, but rather her opinion being contrary to pure-blood supremacy ideology.

"We left the Great Hall after we ate breakfast to avoid him and found you and Hermione in the library. You know, Black, if you're trying to get into Draco's group's good graces, don't you think it's a bad idea to be seen hanging around a muggle-born like Hermione and a half-blood like me?"

"It would make it easier." Harry admitted. "However, I don't fancy the idea of abandoning those whom I think of as friends."

"Well, maybe I can help you."

Harry glanced at Tracey. Her eyes flickered with mischief.

"And why haven't you volunteered to help before?"

She shrugged and replied, "I didn't think you needed it. You practically walk around like you know what you're doing."

"True, but I wouldn't dismiss assistance. I would be foolish to do so."

"I'll give you that. So, do you want my help or not?"

"Speak away, Tracey."

"Well, Millicent is a half-blood, but she's meek. If you're nice to her, she'll like you and want to talk to you. Theodore loves learning new spells, the only reason he's in Slytherin and not Ravenclaw is because he doesn't want his dad to be disappointed in him. They're nice kids and don't believe in that pure-blood supremacy bit, but they're too shy to take charge for themselves. It's why they just follow whatever Draco says."

"Interesting," Harry commented, "what about Pansy and Blaise?"

"Pansy has a crush on Draco. If Draco likes you, she'll like you. Blaise, on the other hand, has a bigger ego than Draco. To be honest, I don't really like him all that much so I never cared to know more about him."

Harry chuckled, understanding her dislike. He had attempted to talk to Blaise before but was ignored by him.

"Thanks for all this, Tracey. Do you want anything in return?"

Tracey smirked and said, "I'll think about it. Let's just say you owe me one."

Harry internally grimaced, not liking the idea of owing anyone. However, he trusted Tracey and decided to not make a fuss about it.

"Fine by me. Any particular reason why you're helping me?"

She shook her head. Her eyes flashed dangerously as her lips twitched into a wicked smile and answered, "Not really. I just want to see the look on Draco's face when he realizes that throwing around his father's name doesn't make him the so-called Prince of Slytherin."

Harry made a note to never to cross Tracey Davis.

* * *

><p>Professor Snape held Potions lessons in one of the dungeons near the entrance to the common room. When Harry first heard of that, he had to wonder why any professor would want to have a class in such a dreary location. However, once Harry thought about the nature of brewing potions, it made sense to have Potions in the dungeons. The dungeons' cool temperature was perfect for brewing and possibly store ingredients and potions.<p>

Harry was excited. Despite the disfavor in which the other Houses held Professor Snape, Harry found the man very respectable in his area of expertise. Older students of Slytherin told him how Professor Snape was one of the youngest ever to obtain a Mastery – Harry assumed it was equivalent to a doctorate – in Potions and was also one of the youngest professors to be a Head of House. It was simply admirable! The fact that he had also been a close friend to his mother had also played a factor in his respect for him.

Hermione had told him that the older students of her House said Professor Snape played favorites and always passed Slytherin students even if they did terrible in their work. Of course, Harry corrected her in that thought and told her what Professor Snape had told the other first years after the start-of-term banquet. Whatever the other Houses said were probably just gross exaggerations of his actual character. Professor Snape was no more biased to his House than the other professors; he simply kept his reprimands private to his House.

Professor Snape began class by taking roll of the students. He had paused at his name at first, but continued on as if nothing had happened. Harry wondered if Professor Snape was familiar with any Blacks, notably his godfather. It would make sense considering since if Professor Snape was a close friend of his mother's, he would be aware whom his godfather was.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, breaking Harry from his pondering, "Henry Potter. Our new – _celebrity_."

Nearby, Harry saw Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle sniggering behind their hands. Sitting next to him, Hermione was rolling her eyes in distaste, and he remembered how she had told him how Professor Flitwick had stroked Henry's ego by growing excited over him. Harry doubted Professor Snape was the type to pander to Henry of all people. Still, he was curious. Harry glanced over to where Henry and his friends sat and saw a mischievous smirk on his face.

After Professor Snape ended roll call, he looked up to the class, commanding their attention. Shifting his eyes from side to side as he surveyed the room, Harry felt a notable chill descend upon the room. Like Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape had the ability of keeping a class controlled with little effort.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Forgetting himself for a moment, Harry began to smirk eagerly once the speech had finished. His mind whirled with the need to prove his worth to his Head of House. Hermione was on the edge of her seat, no doubt sharing the same thirst to display her mettle for the Potions professor.

"Potter!" said Professor Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

His hand shot up into the air along with Hermione's, both having read their textbooks extensively before school had begun. Harry knew this answer, it was in the text!

"Hmm, I don't know. If I had to guess, is it the potion that makes your hair so greasy?" answered Henry.

Harry whipped his head to Henry, disbelieving what he heard. He heard Hermione quietly gasp in shock at the blatant insult. Glancing at Professor Snape, Harry saw his lips thinning as he glowered at Henry.

"Twenty points will be taken from Gryffindor for insulting the teacher, Potter."

Henry simply shrugged and grinned.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione, again, stretched her hand up as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat. Harry knew the answer as well, but he did not feel the need to attempt to answer. He opted to instead observe Henry, curious on what he would do.

"I know this one, my father told me about this." Henry began. "He said you could find a bezoar up Snivellus's bum!"

This time, Ron and Neville were hardly holding back their laughter next to Henry. The rest of the class remained deathly still as they stared at the quaking form of Professor Snape. His normally pale skin was growing pink with rage and Harry could not blame him if he were to explode at Henry.

"That would be thirty points from Gryffindor and detention all weekend for you, Potter! I will not have you disrupting my class!" Professor Snape angrily roared in the direction of the three Gryffindor boys.

Hermione paled beside him. From what she had told him, she had earned a considerable amount of points for the House throughout the week. Not only that, Harry wagered that she had never seen a boy being so rebellious against a teacher.

Harry found Henry sneering at the professor as he replied, "Disrupting? I think the class is already disrupted with that large nose of yours, professor!"

"POTTER, YOU DUNDERHEAD! STOP BEING AN INCORRIGIBLE PRAT!"

Gryffindor and Slytherin students alike gasped when they witnessed Hermione Granger stand up from her seat and yelled at the Boy Who Lived. The shock silenced Henry and his friends. Even Harry, whom had known Hermione for nearly all of his life, was struck speechless. Even Hermione was surprised as she found herself clamping her mouth with both hands as she realized what she had done.

"Ten points to Gryffindor." Professor Snape whispered above the silence.

Harry turned to Professor Snape and found his features much calmer than it had been before when Henry had insulted him. Hermione looked towards him with confusion etched onto her face but Professor Snape made no move to explain his rewarding.

Professor Snape's fierce glare fell upon Henry and said, "Potter, you should thank your friend for calming me. This incident will be reported to your Head of House and the Headmaster. I will also see to it that your _father_ will learn of this as well. For now, remain silent or else I will forcibly dismiss you from my classroom."

Harry wasn't sure if it was Hermione's outburst or the declaration of consequences by Snape that had silenced Henry, but whatever the case, he was thankful that they were able to move forward. Potions lesson continued without anymore interruption from Henry and his friends. Hermione was very embarrassed by her eruption, but Professor Snape's following lecture calmed her down.

After Professor Snape finished the lecture, he placed them all into pairs of their own design and Harry chose Hermione to be his partner. They were tasked to mix up a simple potion to cure boils. It was the simplest potion to brew for students of their level and would certainly help Professor Snape assess their abilities.

"This reminds me of Home Economics." Hermione commented as she weighed the dried nettles.

"Hmm?" Harry hummed inquiringly as he dared not look up from his task of expertly crushing snake fangs with the mortar and pestle. After having finished crushing the snake fangs into dust, Harry took to the porcupine quills and began immediately cutting the quills into the exact measurements needed for the potion. The book said it was not required, but it would help the potion reach maximum potency.

"Well," Hermione began, "I'm stuck measuring again and you're doing the actual… _everything_."

Harry stopped and looked down at his side of the table. The crushed snake fangs were aligned to one side, ready to be measured and weighed. The dried nettles had been carefully counted and arranged in a manner that would make it easy for Hermione to weigh them. The finished cut porcupine quills were on his right, ready to be placed in the cauldron.

"Ah. So I am."

"Ugh, you're a natural at this, Harry. If you can brew potions as well as you can cook, there is no conceivable way you could get anything less than an O."

A small smile adorned his features.

"I must admit this is all coming natural to me. I had an idea that I would like this when I read about it, but to actually do so is an experience all on its own."

With preparation finally complete, it was now time for the actual mixing of ingredients. Their cauldron was already heated by the small flames, making it ready for use. Harry had already inspected the cauldron to make sure that it was clean and found it satisfactory. Hermione began placing the ingredients for the potion into the cauldron, causing the liquid within it to change colors after dropping. Next, as it remained over the fire, Harry took the stirring rod and started meticulously stirring the contents of the cauldron clockwise for several seconds – the book mentioned that it was another thing not required but would help settle the ingredients faster and make the potion easier to swallow.

"Harry, do we put the porcupine quills in _before _or _after _we remove the cauldron from the fire?" Hermione asked several minutes later.

Recalling the instructions perfectly, Harry replied, "We put it in five minutes after the cauldron is removed."

After Harry finished with his stirring, he doused the flames beneath the cauldron and then promptly removed it from where it had been resting. He took the stirring rod again and moved it counter-clockwise in the potion, telling Hermione to begin the five-minute countdown. When the five minutes were up, Hermione placed the porcupine quills into the cauldron. The liquid inside changed into the perfect shade of color illustrated in their potions book.

Harry and Hermione smiled at their success and looked up from their table for the first time since they began. The rest of the class was still working on theirs and Professor Snape was moving from one end of the room to another, criticizing the unfinished potions of the other students. Not even the Slytherins were spared his pointed remarks, although Draco was mostly praised for whatever efforts he had made in his blend.

Sometime later, Professor Snape finally came to their station. Harry found himself nervously staring up at him as he peered down towards the potion he made with Hermione. Speaking of her, Harry glanced and found her blushing, having been reminded of her earlier outburst at Henry and being given points for it. Harry was unsure to think about that but since some time had already passed, he found the entire scene to be incredibly hilarious.

"A perfect concoction. Perhaps you two aren't like the dunderheads I normally teach." He told them in a neutral, guarded tone. "Five points to you both."

Harry and Hermione turned to each other and smiled. Being praised by the teacher known for his biting criticism and strict teaching was an achievement.

"You still have a ways to go before you both are able to fully master this art, but I believe you may actually have the potential to do so."

Professor Snape swept away in his long black cloak, making his rounds towards the other students and remarking on their attempts of brewing.

Students were eager to leave the dungeons an hour later when Potions lesson ended. Harry's mind was racing and his spirits were high. It was time he confronted Professor Snape on his connection to his mother. There was no doubt he would learned something from him about what his mother had been like when she was still alive.

"Harry?" asked Hermione as the other students raced up the steps of the dungeon.

Harry shook his head.

"No, I'm going to talk to him today."

Knowing what he meant, Hermione simply smiled and nodded. Wishing him good luck, Hermione left him behind to complete his task. Harry turned back and reentered the classroom, finding Professor Snape cleaning away the messes the students had made.

Noticing him, Professor Snape looked up and stared coolly at his presence, asking, "I believe I dismissed the class, Black."

"I… I know." Harry stuttered, surprising himself that he was so nervous. "I wanted to talk to you, professor."

"What do you need?" He asked. Though his tone remained passive, Harry heard a hint of impatience laced in his voice.

"First of all, I'm not really Harry Black, I'm actually Harry Potter. I took up my godfather's family name after I received my inheritance from him." Harry confessed, nervous about his unveiling.

"I'm already aware of that. The Headmaster, the Deputy Headmistress, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and I are fully aware of who you really are."

His eyes widening in shock, Harry asked, "But how?"

Professor Snape smirked.

"Humph, we were holding a meeting between the Heads of Houses and the Headmaster when an employee from Gringotts requested permission to floo into the Headmaster's office on urgent business. Naturally, the Headmaster allowed him to enter and was told that he was to change the name of a client in all of his records."

Harry frowned, understanding that he hadn't exactly told the goblins to be discreet. In fact, Harry hadn't thought that he had needed to at first. It was an oversight on his part.

"So, _Black_, or should I say, _Potter_, I ask again, what do you need? Are you here to ridicule me like your brother and father? I was quite surprised that one of James's darling sons is a Slytherin. He must be in quite a surprise."

"I wouldn't know, professor. I don't live with my father."

Professor Snape frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I live with my mother's sister's family, the Dursleys. They're muggles. _James_," he spat, "left me with them after my mother died. I didn't even know I was magical until just recently."

Professor Snape's eyes flickered with anger. A sneer formed on his lips as he glared at nothing in particular. Harry felt that something was amiss and he speculated on the relationship that Professor Snape had with his biological father. From what he gathered, they didn't get along considering Professor Snape thought James would put his son up to ridiculing him at his place of employment.

When Professor Snape remained silent, Harry took it as a sign to continue.

"You see, my Aunt Petunia told me that you were friends with my mother, Lily Evans. She told me that you two had known each other since you were nine years old leading up to her death. I don't really care about my father, I became a Black to get away from his name, but I'm curious to know about my mother. I was hoping you could help me with that seeing as you were once my mother's closest friend."

At the mention of his mother's name, an emotion Harry was unable to decipher flashed in Professor Snape's dark eyes. A look of regret and melancholy gripped the professor's expression, speculating that Harry may have struck a chord at the reminder of his closest friend's death. This would last only mere seconds as Professor Snape swiftly schooled his features and once again remained aloof and uncaring.

"Your mother," Professor Snape said evenly, "was a beautiful, intelligent woman and was perhaps my only true friend. She had a knack for Charms and Potions, evidently a trait she had passed on to you along with your eyes. I will be more than happy to talk to you about her whenever you are free."

Harry smiled, beaming brightly at the thought.

"But now is not the time. I must prepare for another class that is arriving soon."

"Thank you, professor!" Harry ecstatically said in gratitude. It was more than he was hoping for.

He turned away to leave, excited to tell Hermione about this new development.

"One more thing, Black."

Harry stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"That girl beside you, Granger, was it? You speak to one another as if you had known each other for a long time."

Harry beamed.

"Yes, her name is Hermione Granger. We grew up together since we lived next door to each other. She's my best friend!"

"I see." Professor Snape said, a forlorn tone replacing his neutrality. "That is all for now, Black."

"Please, professor, you may call me Harry! It's what my mother named me after all."

Harry bade his farewell and left the dungeons. He could not wait until he told Hermione how nice Professor Snape actually was. Still, he found it strange that he asked about Hermione. However, then again, was it really? Teachers always asked for Hermione because she had always proven to be highly capable in school. As Harry raced to the Great Hall, he thought nothing more about the subject.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: Hopefully, I helped demonstrate a three-dimensional personality in many of the characters that were shown in this chapter.


	10. Tug of War

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: I know, it's been more than a month since I last updated. I don't know why this was such a difficult piece to write, but sometimes reality has a way of taking away your muse. Once again, I'm grateful for the reviews left behind. I'm attempting to run parallels between the Marauders Era and the present, and I'm glad most of you understood that. Best of all, a lot responded positively to my rendition of Snape. That made me happy.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter IX<strong>

**Tug of War**

Boys were annoying.

In the aftermath of Potions lesson, Henry Potter had been thoroughly embarrassed by Hermione after having been called a dunderhead by her. He made his displeasure known in the common room later that night. To say that they had a row would be an understatement. Not even the prefects could stop their fighting! In any case, the conclusion of their verbal battle resulted in the splintering of the first-year Gryffindors.

The first-year Gryffindor boys sided with Henry and argued that Hermione was betraying the House by stopping Henry's barrage of vindictive insults towards Professor Snape. To be honest, Hermione was terrified that she had ruined any chance of friendship within her own House! Fortunately, the other girls supported Hermione's actions and stated that Henry lost them the points they had earned during the first week – the time when the professors were most generous with giving away points.

Thankfully, none of the older students wanted to be part of the entire thing. Percy Weasley, the red-haired prefect and one of Ron's older brothers, commended her for her choice of stopping Henry's blatant display of disrespect. Speaking of Weasleys, the twins, Fred and George, had simply laughed over the entire thing and proclaimed Hermione a hero for earning points from the "dreaded, greasy bat". Hermione really didn't know what to make of that.

Still, for the next several days, Henry, Ron, Neville, and the other boys continually harassed her with cutting remarks and snide comments. It hadn't bothered her at first, but their constant presence just to passively insult her became grating when she was unable to study or read properly. Fortunately, it had all stopped when Henry's – as well as Harry's – father came to Hogwarts and had a meeting with him, Professor McGonagall, and Headmaster Dumbledore. When he came back to the common room later that night, Henry was subdued. No doubt that he had a thorough dressing down by his father!

Nevertheless, the entire thing made her realize a few things about boys. To repeat, boys were annoying.

As she stood beside her broom listening to Madam Hooch's lecture on broom safety and waiting for further instructions, Hermione's eyes glided over to the person opposite of where she was standing. Harry was beside his own broom, between Tracey and Daphne. He soon noticed Hermione and directed a small smile towards her. He waved at her while mouthing a greeting.

_I take that back, not _all _boys are annoying. _Hermione giggled.

"Now, stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Instantly, her broom shot up and barreled right into her grip. Hermione was pleasantly surprised and looked around to see if others had succeeded. Henry, Ron, and Neville were grinning from ear to ear as they held up their brooms triumphantly. Across from her, she caught Harry's broom shooting up to his hand at once and she felt happy that her friend was just as successful as she was on her first try.

The prospect of learning to fly excited her. Unlike some of the other first-years that had been around magic for most of their lives, flying on a broomstick was not what she perceived as a daily occurrence considering she was a muggle-born. She overheard Henry retelling his experiences on a broom and how his father taught him how to fly, exaggerating that he had nearly crashed into an airplane. Ron and Neville spoke of how they were once flying together on one Ron's older brother's old brooms and had nearly crashed onto the side of a house shaped like a rook. Even Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, whom she both saw as the most girly of all the girls in her dorm, spent some time excitedly talking about how their mothers flew with them from time to time.

As nervous as she was that she would eventually be lifted up into the air with nothing but a magical stick underneath her, Hermione embraced the exciting challenge that awaited her. She even read some books that gave her tips on flying in order to prepare herself for the whole experience! If anything, Hermione was confident that she would excel in the physical sport just as she excelled in her academics.

Madam Hooch proceeded with the lesson by showing them all how to properly mount a broom and the correct form while remaining on one. Hermione inwardly laughed when Madam Hooch came to Henry's group and told them that their form was slack and lazy. They deserved a kick to their egos. It was made much better when Madam Hooch came to her and praised her for her form.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two – one."

Madam Hooch brought the whistle to her lips and blew.

Hermione kicked off the ground as hard as she could. A large grin split across her face she quickly levitated upward. Her eyes looked downward and found herself floating atop of the broom with nothing touching the earth. However, instead of stopping at the altitude Madam Hooch had instructed, Hermione found herself rising higher and higher. Before Hermione knew it, she was fifteen feet in the air!

"Help!" She screamed in a panicked voice, fear gripping her.

She reached out to her broom and wrapped her arms around it. That was a mistake. Instead of providing her the feeling of comfort she had thought, the broom stopped and jerked forward. Caught off guard, Hermione lost her grip on the broom and was sent keeling forward. Hermione closed her eyes as she braced for impact,

"HERMIONE!" "GRANGER!" yelled two voices simultaneously.

Then, everything went silent. Hermione couldn't feel pain erupting from her body as she thought she would have had. Maybe she had died painlessly?

"Black, let go of her!" cried out the familiar voice of Henry, his voice rising in irritation.

She heard Harry scoff and replied – oddly calm, Hermione noted – drawly, "Hermione is _my _best friend. You two don't even like each other. You let go."

Finally, Hermione opened her eyes and looked around her. Her left arm was being held by Harry with both of his arms and Henry was in a similar position with her right arm. She looked down and gasped in fright. They were still several feet up the air! She was being held up in the air by two eleven-year-old boys!

"So what? We're in Gryffindor! We stick together! Besides, how can a snake like you be friends with her? Let go, Black! I have it all under control!"

"Hermione was right to call you a dunderhead. It's obvious I have the better grip here. It would be better if _you_ let go so _I_ can bring her back down to safety."

"What? You let go! I'm stronger and I'm a better flyer!"

Hermione had enough of their arguing.

"No! _Neither of you _let go!" She yelled at them disparagingly. "Honestly, _boys_! You _both _can bring me down."

Harry and Henry were silent for a moment before they both murmured in agreement. Slowly, their brooms began hovering downward at a slow and steady pace. Hermione let out a sigh of relief as both boys stopped their stupid argument long enough for her soles to touch the grass. Never before in all her years did she so enjoy the feeling of _anything _underneath her feet.

She looked up to find Madam Hooch storming her way over to where she, Harry, and Henry were. Her falcon-like eyes had a storm residing in them that made Hermione nervous. She could have died, but it also could have been worse. What if Madam Hooch was taking her to the headmaster's office to expel her!

"Black! Potter!" Madam Hooch hissed angrily. "That was the most reckless stunt ever committed by first years! Twenty points from you each!"

The young, bushy-haired witch opened her mouth to argue that everything had been _her _fault and that she shouldn't punish them for her mistake when, unexpectedly, Madam Hooch continued further.

"However, in all my years as a professor here in Hogwarts, I have never seen two first years risk their lives to save a classmate. Thirty points each."

Hermione felt herself smiling that Madam Hooch rewarded her saviors. She turned to Harry to find his green eyes sparkling with worry and relief. There was no doubt that Harry would later lecture how worried he had been. Next, Hermione turned to Henry and found him smirking at her reassuringly as if he thought she was seeking out comfort. But underneath the confidence he exuded, Hermione could see that he was satisfied she was safe.

Maybe boys weren't annoying after all.

* * *

><p>After Hermione's fall, Madam Hooch ended flying lessons early after making sure Hermione was alright. By noon, word had spread that the Boy Who Lived and a member of the infamous Black family heroically saved a muggle-born first year from certain death. At least that was what Tracey heard from the other students. She felt it was her duty to relay everything that was being circulated about Harry as they walked to the Great Hall for dinner.<p>

"Is there anything you can't do, Black?" Tracey asked playfully.

Harry turned his head slightly to her as they walked and raised an eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well," She purred in amusement, "you were a natural flyer out there with Potter! You two did moves that the rest of us couldn't hope to do in a million years. You both dove in and caught her just before she hit the ground! If that isn't impressive, I don't know what is!"

He rolled his eyes at her exaggeration and replied, "Hardly. I just did what I had to do to help Hermione. I promised I would protect her. She's my best friend."

"Still, Black, what you did was impressive! And today was your first time flying, right?"

Harry nodded.

"See! You're amazing!"

He didn't _feel _amazing but he left his retort remain unsaid as he knew there was no arguing with Tracey. Truthfully, Harry felt guilty over what happened to Hermione. It was an incident caused by Hermione's eagerness to excel at everything she set her mind to, but that itself wasn't what gave him guilt. Rather, it was the way he had handled her "rescue". His incessant squabbling with Henry as they held on to Hermione for dear life had been a risk.

Harry had to make it up to Hermione somehow. Fortunately, her birthday was coming up and he had already picked out a present for her. It was good that Hedwig didn't mind the secret correspondence he had with Hermione's parents. He wanted to surprise her with what he planned to give her.

"Hey Black, there's Potter." Tracey pointed out as she tugged at his sleeve.

True to her word, Harry spotted Henry waiting for one of the moving staircases to connect with the one he was standing on. Strangely, Harry didn't see Ron or Neville by Henry's side. In the instances he saw one of the three the other two wouldn't be far. As much as he wanted to avoid talking to his twin brother, there was really no choice in the matter.

"Hello Potter." Harry greeted the boy cordially.

Henry turned and spotted the two Slytherins, grimacing as they approached.

"_Wonderful._"

The sarcasm dripping in his tone was not lost on Harry. He didn't say anything about it considering he was already accustomed to the boy's prejudice against his house. Draco's continued attempts to insult and belittle Henry and his friends at every turn didn't help matters in dissuading the Gryffindor's misconceptions about Slytherin. However, it was Tracey that decided to take matters into her own hands.

Tracey placed both hands on her hips as she glared at Henry, asking him, "What's that supposed to mean?"

_Great. This isn't boding well. _Harry thought as he took a step to the side to observe the confrontation.

"The two of you won't bring me down!" Henry suddenly shouted. "So you can tell Malfoy to sod off."

"Oh, I would love to." Tracey grinned in amusement.

Henry narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously and then glanced at Harry. A smug smirk formed.

"Hey Black. It's too bad the greasy bat can't appreciate talent like Professor McGonagall."

Harry was taken aback by that statement. It was not that he had been offended, but rather he was slightly put-off by the absurdity by it. He had no idea what brought on Henry's statement, leaving Harry speechless as he stared at him incredulously. Before either he or Tracey could retort, the stairwell connected and Henry was off towards the direction of the Great Hall. Harry and Tracey trailed after him, but kept their distance from the boy to avoid another conversation.

"What was that about?" Tracey asked with a puzzled expression.

He shrugged.

"I have no idea. I tend to not dwell on him."

"But can you believe what he said? He thought we were part of Malfoy's circle! Ugh, so this is what it feels like to be associated with Malfoy. I feel… _icky_."

Harry gave her a small, amused smile, the only indication of his mirth. "Icky?"

Tracey stuck her tongue out at him and primly hastened her pace. The young Black shook his head at the antics of his friend and quickened his own steps. The one thing that made being apart from Hermione bearable was his friendship with Tracey. She simply knew how to have fun and could stand up for herself if she had to. She had to be considering Greengrass had such a strong presence of her own.

They arrived in the Great Hall a few minutes later. The older students that had later classes than first years hadn't poured in yet, leaving plenty of unclaimed spots at the Slytherin table to sit at. Greengrass sat in the middle of the long table, a little ways off from the other first and second years that had already arrived. Tracey sat next to her friend while Harry sat in the seat across from them.

"I was wondering when you two would arrive. Your company is more agreeable than that of Malfoy and his two brutes. He looked like he was just about ready to _socialize_." Greengrass greeted them without looking up.

"Sorry," Tracey apologized, "I shouldn't have forgotten my book in the classroom."

Harry nodded and added his own comment, "I can't say I blame you. The constant smell of garlic would hurry anyone wanting to leave."

Tracey murmured her agreement. She had shared with him that she had a sensitive nose. Time spent in Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom always made her nauseous by the end of the lesson.

"I have been meaning to ask, Black, but would you assist me on my Potions assignment later? I consulted my textbook, but I still feel unfamiliar with the subject and I would like have a second opinion."

Greengrass was beginning to ease her pointed remarks against him. While she was still able to give him a quick tongue-lashing whenever she was irritated, Harry suspected she was coming to see him as a friend. Nevertheless, their tentative relationship was still somewhat vitriolic, but it was progress. He no longer found her half as annoying as he had thought when they first met. In fact, they began helping each other in their studies during the evening.

The brunette next to the blonde beamed.

"Can you help me too, Black?"

"Are you actually going to do your own work or are you going to simply copy our assignments like before?" Harry questioned her, sending Tracey a wary look.

"Yeah… I'll do my work… maybe…" Tracey replied, chuckling sheepishly.

Harry rolled his eyes, having known that he wouldn't receive a positive answer from her. He then changed the subject from their class work to something more exciting. Harry asked Tracey and Greengrass about music. Since learning to play the guitar for Hermione's birthday last year, Harry found the hobby a relaxing pastime. He had been happy to learn that his trunk was able to fit Nathan's guitar, a birthday gift from Hermione's father. Since coming to Hogwarts, Harry had been curious about what music magical society offered. Harry was surprised to learn that Greengrass knew a lot more about music in the wizarding world than her more tomboyish best friend. Her favorite band was a group called the Weird Sisters.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Draco. Out of the corner of his eye, He spotted the Malfoy scion slid from where he sat to the unoccupied space next to Harry. He cast a suspicious glance at Draco but carefully hid it from view.

"Cousin, I need to talk to you." Draco solemnly told Harry.

He found Draco's behavior to be odd. Since coming to Hogwarts, he had only seen Draco act pompously in front of everyone and bragging about his family's influence and fortune. To see him serious was unusual. Harry spotted Tracey and Greengrass watching with bated breath, they were no more curious than he was about what Draco needed to talk about.

Taking his silence as an invitation to continue, Draco wasted no time.

"The older students have been talking about you." Draco began with a grimace. "They're calling you a blood traitor for spending too much time with people that are below you. You're a _Black_, you're above the filth! You have to watch out who you associate with!"

His words infuriated Harry. He found the entire ideology of pureblood supremacy to be rubbish. He had read up on various individuals both past and present that had been muggle-borns and half-bloods that contributed greatly to magical society. Nevertheless, Harry stilled his anger and looked at Draco directly in the eye, saying, "I don't care, Draco. It is my business whom I spend my time with. Besides, the point of schooling besides an education is to create relationships with people that may benefit you in the future."

Draco frowned.

"But you're not talking to the right sort. Don't worry, we're family. I can help you there."

Harry fully arched an eyebrow inquiringly and asked, "Pray tell, who is considered the right sort?"

"Pure-bloods, of course! True ones, anyway. None of those blood-traitors."

"Now, that is the difference between the two of us, Draco. You limit yourself to a certain group of people who, may I add, are only a small fraction of the entire population."

"Who cares about the others?" Suddenly, Draco's voice dropped to a quiet whisper. "The Dark Lord will get rid of them and will reward us few."

This time, Harry was unable to control the frown that escaped his grip. It was as he feared. He knew about the reputation about Draco's father, Lucius, having been under suspicion that he had been a Death Eater, but Harry was willing to pass it off as paranoia because of the family's known bigotry. Nevertheless, while he had thought Draco to be arrogant and narcissistic, he never thought the boy was capable of harm. If he admired Lord Voldemort, then Harry wasn't sure how he could deal with an individual who wouldn't blink seeing his best friend executed.

"Draco, I don't need your help and I don't need you to tell me who I should talk." Harry coldly stated.

Draco stared at him with surprise and confusion.

"What?"

"I'm telling you to I will talk to blood traitors, half-bloods, and muggle-borns if I want to. Your opinion will be noted and then promptly ignored. _Now leave me alone._"

The venom laced in his tone not only surprised Harry, but several others that had overheard from their startled expressions. Tracey stared at him with her mouth gaping open and even Greengrass was showing emotion with her widened eyes. The other first years had heard, but Harry didn't care to take note of them. Several of the other students had also witnessed what occurred but wisely looked away when Harry inspected his surroundings.

Draco was struck speechless by Harry's biting statement and rather than reply to him, he quickly retreated back to where he previously sat without looking back. Harry, however, remained strangely composed. His face that had once slipped into a frown returned back to its usual aloof demeanor. It was if he had never said anything at all.

Harry's roaming eyes settled on his two female companions. Casually, he asked, "What?"

"You're brilliant." Tracey automatically said. Realizing what she had said, Tracey blushed and continued. "I mean… you're brilliant, but scary! Very scary!"

Greengrass chuckled – a rarity for her – and smiled – another rarity – at Harry.

"I agree with Tracey. You can be very intimidating when you can be. And here I thought I was the only one who could scare Malfoy away with a single look."

"What I said was correct. He has no business in my social life. Besides, he's exaggerating. We Slytherins may have a fierce rivalry with Gryffindor, but we're not all bigots. Unlike Draco who thinks he knows everything, I noticed a majority of our older students don't even care about the concept of pure-blood supremacy."

"Really? Huh. I always felt like I was struggling in the House because I was a half-blood." Tracey commented, habitually scratching her cheek in thought.

Harry shook his head and replied, "Well, unlike you, I'm not shy about talking to someone older than me."

Tracey's cheeks turned red.

"I don't have a crush on Adrian Pucey! Who told you that nonsense? Was it you, Daphne?"

He stared at her, laughter dancing in his eyes. Teasingly, he remarked, "Tracey, I never said anything about Adrian Pucey."

Daphne threw in her own comment, "Black is right. Besides, I never told a soul. You brought this on yourself, Tracey."

Tracey turned even redder than before. She collapsed onto the table groaning as her two friends began chuckling heartily at her expense. Harry now understood why Hermione enjoyed teasing him days ago. It was a lot of fun.

* * *

><p>It was Sunday and Hedwig, being the lovely owl that she was, dropped off a parcel at the Slytherin table early morning. After feeding her some bits of his breakfast, he sent her off back to the owlery. The package from the Grangers had finally arrived and he couldn't help but pat himself on the back with how careful he had been in obtaining it. Harry had deliberately told Hermione's parents to not send off Hedwig until Saturday evening, allowing the owl to arrive by morning the next day. He knew Hermione slept in on Sundays and would not discover that he finally had her present that he would give her in four days time.<p>

However, he wasn't the only one that had woken up early and was presently sitting at the Slytherin table. Greengrass peered at him from across the table, eyeing the package curiously behind her passive face.

"What do you have there?" she asked.

"It's my present for Hermione. It's her birthday on the nineteenth." Harry answered elatedly.

Greengrass frowned at him.

"I did not know it was her birthday soon."

Harry was surprised by the revelation but did not show it. He inquired, "You mean Hermione never told you?"

"No. If she had made it known, I would have gotten her a present."

It still surprised him how well Hermione and Greengrass got along, but then again, their intellectual curiosity was on the same level and often he would catch the two talking about magical concepts he hadn't even read yet. Harry wondered if Greengrass was a bookworm as well. He would ask Tracey about that later.

"Ah. Well, Hermione can be a little shy. I think she was afraid if she brought it up, you would think she was expecting something from you." Harry offered as an explanation.

"How do you know so much about her?"

His eyes twinkled warmly, a small grin tugging at his lips as he said, "I know Hermione better than she knows herself and I'm willing to wager that she shares the same sentiment towards me."

That earned a wry smile from the typically icy girl. Their conversation died from there to resume eating their breakfast. Greengrass ate quicker and excused herself from the table. She said something about wanting to look over her assignments one last time before tomorrow. It was not long until he finished his breakfast as well and began hurriedly walking back to his dorm.

As Harry stepped out into the atrium, he came face to face with Theodore Nott. He had never talked to the sickly looking boy before, but from what Tracey had told him, he enjoyed learning like he did but not to the point of being fanatical like Hermione and, presumably, Greengrass.

Harry greeted him politely, "Good morning Theodore."

"Good morning, Black." His voice was shy and low.

"How are you doing in your classes?" Harry kindly asked, allowing himself to smile to ease the nervousness that he saw in Theodore.

"I'm doing well. Thank you for asking." Theodore replied reservedly. "What about yourself?"

"The material is interesting, that's certain. It has me rapt in attention. I believe I have a knack for brewing potions, but I have to say my most favorite aspect is learning all the new spells."

"Me too! Herbology and Astronomy is boring, but I like Charms. Professor Flitwick teaches us a lot of spells. I'm happy he doesn't lecture us all the time like with Professor McGonagall. I don't like Professor Quirrell's teaching. He stutters too much and all he talks about are dark creatures. I want to know more about the spells you use to duel!"

Harry was taken aback by Theodore's sudden eagerness. Theodore also realized that he had lost his calm tone and had been replaced by his energetic tirade. He nervously looked away and spoke again, "Sorry. Actually, I'm here to tell you that Professor Snape is looking for you. He wants to see you in his office."

Before Harry could reply, Theodore walked around him and entered the Great Hall. Left standing alone in the atrium, Harry's thoughts were on Theodore. His enthusiasm was compelling and he wondered why Theodore felt the need to hide his passion for spellwork? It was something Harry had to wonder about as he walked back to Slytherin common room in the dungeons.

Immediately after arriving to his dormitory, Harry placed the package in his trunk and made sure it was locked. There was no such thing as being too careful and Harry wanted to make sure Hermione received her gift on her birthday. Once it was secure, Harry proceeded to Professor Snape's office. He found the door slightly ajar and found it peculiar that a person like him would be so careless.

As he raised his fist to knock on the door, Harry began hearing voices from inside.

"Flint, the sole reason I have chosen you as captain of the team is because Higgs turned down the position. Do not forget that." He heard the even-toned voice of his Head of House.

Flint, the boy with the Professor and had probably left the door ajar, half-shouted indignantly, "I understand, _sir. _But what you're suggesting is completely preposterous! Terrence wouldn't have it!"

"I assure you Higgs would rather play his position as chaser rather than the role _you _placed him in."

"No one else has experience playing seeker! The other flyers on Saturday were terrible!"

"Then what makes you so opposed to my suggestion? What is there to lose?"

"At least with Terrence, we have a chance of winning!"

It was at that moment that Harry made himself known. He pushed the door open, its hinges creaking. The noise stopped the conversation as the two participants turned their heads to the entrance. Harry remained reserved, as if he hadn't heard the conversation at all.

"Excuse me, professor, but Theodore Nott told me you needed to see me?" It was good to remain polite.

Flint glared at Harry, an intimidating gesture considering his height completely dwarfed Harry. Turning away from the older boy, his eyes settled on Professor Snape. His Head of House smirked as he gestured him to come in. Harry was thankful he hadn't remarked on his entering without knocking as he was sure the professor would have.

"Black," Harry noticed that Professor Snape returned to calling him by his last name rather than his first name when others are present, "I would like you to introduce you to someone."

"I'm Marcus Flint, captain of the Quidditch team." Flint said gruffly, not even bothering to offer a handshake.

Harry was puzzled. What reason would the professor introduce him to Slytherin's Quidditch captain? He glanced from Flint to Professor Snape and asked, "I'm sorry, but I don't know what this means."

Professor Snape chuckled.

"It means you will be playing Quidditch this year."

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: I promise the next update won't take a month to release. I must have read the first book hundreds of times already with the amount of research I'm doing for this particular story. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Until next time!


	11. Excitement and Mystery

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter X<strong>

**Excitement and Mystery**

* * *

><p>"What? You're going to play Quidditch?" asked Hermione disbelievingly, nearly shouting and possibly gaining the ire of Madam Pince.<p>

Harry smiled and nodded.

"Professor Snape saw me catch you when you fell. He thought I had talent and wanted to see how I fared as a Seeker." Harry explained, "Of course, I won't be playing for the first match. Flint – the captain by the way – wants me to shadow Terrence Higgs – our current seeker – and see how to play the role."

In truth, Flint wanted nothing to do with Harry and was completely against his placement on the team. Professor Snape finally relented and made a compromise with the Quidditch captain that Harry wouldn't play in their first game. Harry had been fine with that arrangement honestly. He didn't want to jump into a game with no prior experience on how an actual game would go. It was best to sit one out and be prepared for the next one rather than to join one immediately and become the reason for why the team lost.

Hermione fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat as she lowered the book she was reading. In a concerned voice, Hermione relayed her misgivings, "Why would you even want to play, Harry? For as long we've known each other, you never been particularly interested in sports."

He thought of this as well, having first been inclined to decline Professor Snape's offer. However, he was genuinely curious and something in him urged him to take up to the skies on a broomstick. With a tiny smirk, Harry replied, "I just thought I would try it out. I think it would be fun. Besides, I should do something where I'm better at than you: flying."

She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. Harry would never let her live down her fumble that first day of flying lesson. Embarrassing Hermione was one of his favorite pastimes.

"As long as you're happy, Harry, then I'll support you!" Hermione smiled brightly. "I'll cheer for you in all of your matches. Well, except when it's Slytherin against Gryffindor, of course."

Harry chuckled.

"I suppose that would be alright. We can't have you do something as treacherous as supporting those dastardly snakes!"

"Honestly, the house rivalries here are too intense for my liking."

"And this is coming from the girl who regularly competes fiercely for the top rank of her class." Harry remarked with a tiny snort.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry's chiding but continued to smile, more amused than upset. The two friends entered a companionable silence as they proceeded to continue working on their assignments. After five minutes, Harry found himself not making much progress in his work. His thoughts had drifted from his studies to the meeting with Flint and Professor Snape the other day. Despite his confidence when he spoke to Hermione, he still felt unsure if he was capable of playing such a game. His stunt with Hermione during flying lessons could easily be written off as a one-time fluke.

His insecurities aside, Harry knew that it wasn't the only reason for his doubts. Looking up from his studying materials to gaze at Hermione diligently working across from him, he found himself worrying that playing Quidditch could potentially widen the gap forming between him and Hermione. It was hard enough that they mostly didn't have the same classes and were in different Houses. Their study sessions in the mornings and evenings were the few times he was able to see her during the week. Playing Quidditch could mean he would be practicing often with the team, leaving almost no room to spend time with his best friend.

Where would he and Hermione be in their seventh year if he couldn't find the time to be with her? The thought terrified him.

"Hey there kiddos!" a familiar voice rang out close to Harry and Hermione's table.

Both first years found a bubbly Tonks waving at them as she grinned from ear to ear, her notable pink hair having been replaced with a sky blue color. She carefully strode over towards them, hurrying along quickly. Suddenly, her foot caught on to her robes and she fell forward. Luckily, Tonks caught herself by grabbing onto a table ledge. Her sudden, clumsy appearance elicited chuckles from both Harry and Hermione.

"Good morning, Tonks! Harry and I haven't seen you since we arrived here!" Hermione warmly welcomed the older teen.

"You're telling me!" Tonks dramatically stated, throwing her hands up in the air. "Seventh year is brutal! The second we get back, it's work, work, and more work! Though I guess I brought it on myself, taking on a lot of subjects and all."

"I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle." Harry complimented her.

Tonks smirked and ruffled up Harry's hair at his flattering words.

"Why are you taking so many subjects, Tonks?" Hermione asked curiously.

Surprised, Tonks's eyes widened with disbelief.

"You mean I never told you?"

Both first years shook their heads.

"Well," Tonks had a smile that nearly reached her eyes. "I'm trying to become an Auror. They're basically regular bobbies but with magic and all that. You have to do well in your N.E.W.T.s if you want to become one."

"That's amazing, Tonks!" Hermione exclaimed in admiration. "I read that Aurors are an elite unit of highly-trained wizards and witches!"

Tonks guffawed at Hermione's excitement, eliciting a harsh shush from Madam Pince. The librarian's pointed stare made the three students immediately reign in their voices.

"It's going to be tough. Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Law Enforcement, and James Potter, the Head of the Auror Office, practically forced Fudge to give them more funds to train more Aurors on the condition that the requirements to be one are increased." Tonks explained with a rueful tone. "I can't skive off _ever_, but hey, I'm going to learn some wicked combat spells!"

Harry remained silent after that. He caught Hermione eyeing him worriedly when Tonks mentioned his father but sent her a dismissive wave reminding her that she would be fine. Tonks remained blissfully unaware of the landmine she stepped on and continued chatting with Hermione about her aspirations as Harry pretended to be working. His mind was once again reeling with anger when he thought of his father becoming successful whereas he was abandoned by him. He hated feeling this way as it only meant that his father was still able to control him.

"Are you okay, Harry?"

The boy in question looked up to find Hermione watching him with a sympathetic smile. Tonks had already left after picking up the reading she needed, leaving the two of them alone and finally giving Hermione the chance to worry over her friend.

He carefully thought over how he would answer and decided that he would follow the normal route of discourse with Hermione by being honest.

"I'm fine. I hate getting angry whenever my father is mentioned, but it's something I need to learn how to control on my own."

Hermione tilt her head questioningly and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Harry shook his head. "I already told you all this before. I really have nothing else new to say."

She sighed.

"Well, if you say so. Anyway, we should pack up. It's almost time for class."

The two of them packed up and left the library. Before they parted ways to their respective classes, Harry's thoughts remained on Hermione. She always worried about him and despite her eagerness to excel, she always made time to be with him. Hermione would never allow their friendship to wane. So, to show his appreciation, Harry surprised Hermione with a hug from behind.

"You're brilliant, Hermione." He told her.

"Harry! My staircase is here!" Hermione pointed out, but Harry knew she was enjoying it. "Save the hugging for later!"

"Off you go then."

Then with a smirk, Harry gently pushed her forward and waved goodbye. Hermione glared at him exasperatedly but smiled nevertheless. Her staircase moved on its own as she made her way to her first class, leaving Harry to wait for the next one that would lead him to his. Harry was now content, his worries forgotten.

* * *

><p>Hermione's birthday was in the middle of the week, but that didn't stop Harry from arranging a small get-together with the friends the two of them collected in their brief stay in Hogwarts. Tonks had played an instrumental role of securing an empty classroom to have the small gathering – as the library was surely not the best place for a party – and had even arranged for food and drinks to be served – though Tonks proclaimed that she would never reveal her secret as to how she had done so, promising to only tell Harry and Hermione at the end of the year.<p>

On Harry's end, he invited Tracey and Greengrass, the only two he considered as his friends in Slytherin so far. Hermione invited two muggleborns from Hufflepuff that she was getting along with in Charms and Herbology, Sally-Anne Perks and Justin Finch-Fletchley, another muggle-born stemming from Ravenclaw named Kevin Entwhistle, and a pure-blood girl fascinated with the muggle world from her dorm, Fay Dunbar.

Overall, the party was a rousing success in Harry's opinion. It would be the first time Hermione celebrated her birthday without her family and Harry didn't want it to be a sad affair. The muggleborn students were very intimidated with himself, Tracey, and Greengrass at first because of their origin from Slytherin, but that was mended quick when Hermione and Greengrass began talking enthusiastically about a book they took from the library and when Tracey began bragging how her mother was a famous duelist in magical Europe, something that attracted the interest of the two boys.

However, it was not until the party ended and everyone was making their way back to their common rooms before curfew that Harry gave Hermione his present for her. After having learned from Professor Flitwick during their excursion in Diagon Alley that anything electronic would not work in Hogwarts, Harry thought tirelessly as to what present to get Hermione for her birthday. Finally, it was when Dudley was showing off his new outfit for when he would begin attending his father's alma mater, Smeltings Academy, that gave Harry his idea as to what to give her.

On September 19th, Hermione received a silver pocket watch from Harry. Inside was a picture taken by Hermione's father of the two of them before they passed through the barrier into Platform 9 ¾. Beneath the picture was an engraving that read, "Harry James & Hermione Jean". Needless to say, Hermione had been overjoyed by the thoughtful gift and Harry's reward was a loving kiss on the cheek. Harry couldn't have been happier.

In the following weeks, Harry found himself focusing more on his studies and Quidditch, completely forgoing with his initial plan to wrest control of the first year Slytherins from Draco. After Draco basically displayed his true colors as a bigot that supported Voldemort's ideals, Harry found himself disgusted and seething whenever the blonde boy was around him. He didn't even want to associate himself with Draco or any of his group, finding better acquaintances with the older students introduced to him by his Quidditch teammates.

Harry learned that he now had a reputation amongst the Slytherins. Ironically, despite no longer working to further his goals to integrate himself as the de facto leader of the first year Slytherins, his intimidating outburst elevated him onto a status above Draco. The Black name was well-known and there were whispers that he was the heir to its fortune and legacy. Little did they know, Harry already claimed that inheritance, but he wasn't about to be the one responsible for revealing that.

As for Quidditch, Flint hadn't been the only one skeptical about Harry's placement on the team. The team was split between those who wanted to see what he could do and those who wanted him kicked out immediately. Only Terrence Higgs, Adrian Pucey, one of the chasers, and Miles Bletchley, the keeper, were the only three to be friendly. Charles Warrington, another chaser, took a wait-and-see approach, but it was Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole, the two beaters that were friends of Flint, that wanted him gone as soon as possible.

The first few practices had him simply watching the team practice from the stands. Harry found that nearly all of their tactics involved underhanded means of scoring or crippling the opposition. Terrence later explained to him that they lost almost all of their top players when they graduated last year, completely dismantling their powerhouse of a Quidditch team that demolished its competitors for the coveted Quidditch Cup in the past. No longer having a team comprised of skill, experience, and camaraderie, they had to resort to using a sneaky tactics to combat against the other Houses' developed teams. It was the Slytherin way and Harry respected that.

It was a few days before Halloween when Flint finally decided to let Harry run Seeker drills. As soon as he had left the ground, Harry never felt more alive in the air than he did while on standing on soil. It was as if he was meant to fly. He couldn't explain with words how he felt when it was just him, his broom, and the sky. Flying came naturally to him and it soon helped him prove how much of an asset he was a seeker. Harry had outpaced Terrence and caught the snitch before he did.

That, more than anything, made the naysayers shut up.

"You did a great job at there, Harry." Said Terrence as Harry stepped out of the locker room. He was leaning against the wall, obviously having waited for Harry to come out.

Harry regarded the seventh year carefully, wondering if he was resentful that he had been outperformed by a first year. Sensing that he held no ill-will, Harry simply nodded in acceptance of the compliment and fired back his own, "I kept a close eye on you when Flint still wouldn't let me fly. You're a better flyer than me."

Terrence snorted.

"Hardly! You could have me beat, mate, I'm not going to lie. Actually, from what I've seen, you're probably a better flyer than any other seeker we ever had in Hogwarts! Barring Charlie Weasley, of course. He was a bloody monster. Can't say for certain if you can beat him."

"Thanks, Terrence. I don't know about Quidditch, but I like flying. It feels so refreshing and it just comes natural to me." Harry admitted, earning him a knowing smile from Terrence.

"Yeah, that's why I started playing Quidditch in the first place. It lets me fly. I couldn't afford a broom when I was younger, so I tried out for the Quidditch team because the school reserves the best brooms for them to fly on." He chuckled. "Anyway, I was thinking of talking to Marcus about letting you be the seeker in our first match. Warrington can keep himself on a broom, but he can't throw a quaffle to save his life. We might have to put him on reserve and put me back to my position as chaser until we build him up some more."

Harry arched an eyebrow, carefully holding back his nervousness and excitement.

"Are you sure I'm ready?"

Terrence scoffed and said, "Of course you are! Gryffindor won't know what hit them come November."

"Well, if you can get Flint to let me play, then I wouldn't mind being the seeker. It sounds fun."

"Smashing! I wanted to see if you were okay with it before I bring the idea to Marcus. As much of an idiot he may look and act sometimes, there are more than enough reasons why he's captain other than me not wanting the job." With that said, Terrence pushed himself off the wall and entered the locker room, presumably to talk to Flint about his idea.

Harry left with added merriment in each step he took. As he passed through the exit, the young seeker spotted Tracey waiting for him nearby with a bored expression on her face. Since practice began, Tracey had always been in the stands watching the others play. The team didn't mind if other Slytherins came by to watch in the stands, but Harry could never figure out why Tracey went to the practice. He assumed it was to get a glimpse of Adrian Pucey. Either way, he was just thankful for the company when Flint still wouldn't let him fly.

"Adrian already left. You won't be able to see him." Harry drawled, lacing his voice with a blithe tone for added mischief.

Tracey jumped, surprised by his appearance. She regained her bearings quickly and turned around to face him, her eyes knitted in a fierce glare.

"I don't like him! Daphne is just saying that because he helped me out a few times in the common room!"

Harry chuckled, believing her. He learned that he shared a sense of humor with Greengrass, both finding it humorous when the two of them teased their best friends. Hermione was quick-witted enough to make a rebuttal, but Tracey was not as fortunate. Greengrass would forever be able to fluster her.

"I might be able to play in our first match." Harry told Tracey as the two of them began their trek up to the castle. "Terrence said he was going to talk to Flint about it."

Tracey beamed brightly and threw one fist up in the air, shouting, "Alright! Way to go, Black! You're going to be the youngest seeker in centuries!"

"I would be, huh? You know, reading over the rules, there was never anything that said first years couldn't be on the team. It just mentioned that first years aren't allowed to bring a broomstick with them to Hogwarts."

"My mum says it's because first years have the tendency to be too eager when they begin flying and hurt themselves."

Harry nodded, agreeing with that opinion.

"I could imagine considering Hermione was a bit overexcited that first lesson…"

"That reminds me. Is she doing any better? I don't really pay attention to her during lessons… I'm not doing so well and if I want to try out for the team next year, I need to get better…"

Harry sighed and wryly smiled.

"She is utterly hopeless on a broom. She can get on it and rise, but she doesn't know how to control it. It is pretty much a given that she won't be able to fly anytime soon. Madam Hooch even had to give her a broom for toddlers to help her out. Hermione is tenacious though, she isn't going to give up so easily… but I'm starting to think she's better off not flying."

Tracey giggled no doubt at the thought of Hermione's fervent determination to soar through the air without crashing. Harry always admired how Hermione was capable of doing a broad range of things, but even he could see that Hermione learning to fly _well _would be a fruitless endeavor on her part. He knew better than to try and change her mind though, once she settled on doing something, she was going go through it.

"So what are your plans for this evening? If you skive off on doing homework again, Greengrass will be on you all Sunday." Harry warned her, eyeing her calmly in a stern manner.

She rolled her eyes and replied, "Yeah, yeah. I was thinking of coming with you to your little study session with Hermione and finish up this essay Professor Snape assigned us. He already scolded me for doing so poorly with his assignment last week."

"I remember that. Is that when he asked you to stay behind after lessons?"

Tracey nodded.

"In that case, I'll help you out. Although, couldn't you have finished it up while I was practicing? I wasn't really in the position to chat with you after all."

"And miss you kick Terrence's butt? Definitely not! Besides, I knew you were going to help me out anyway."

Harry found Tracey confidently grinning from ear to ear. He sighed, giving her a small smile and a shake of his head. There was never any mistaking why Tracey was in Slytherin. She could be quite cunning when she chose to be. Usually, the times she chose was when it was to avoid arduous schoolwork.

Their conversation from there branched off to several topics as the two friends entered the castle. Harry was aware that Tracey enjoyed listening to gossip and rumors, making her a fountain of information if he wanted to know what was happening around the school. From her, Harry learned that the headmaster's warning about the third floor corridor went largely ignored by most students. Several entered it to discover the mystery hidden within it, but so far no search had been fruitful.

Coincidentally it was during this chat that Harry and Tracey spotted a suspicious-looking Theodore Nott nervously stepping onto the third floor from the grand staircase.

"Hey! What's Nott doing?" Tracey rhetorically asked. "Is he mad?"

Although there were several students on the grand staircase with them, it was only coincidence that they were the only two to have a good angle to fully witness what Theodore was up to. Both first years saw Theodore enter the corridor entrance, the very area Headmaster Dumbledore forbade students from entering.

"It looks like his curiosity got the better of him." Answered Harry, a thoughtful look overtaking whatever shock he may have had.

"What're you thinking, Black?"

He waved his hand dismissively.

"It's nothing. I'm just thinking it's clever of him to choose now of all times to enter. Most of the students would either be in their common rooms, outside, or in the library around this hour."

"We should follow him."

Harry was taken aback by Tracey's suggestion albeit he did not show it. He attempted to coax her out of the idea, "It's too dangerous, Tracey. You know what the headmaster said. We could die if we go in there."

"You know the headmaster is a bit barmy in the head! He's probably exaggerating! Besides, a lot of people already entered and they came out fine!" Tracey argued back. "Besides, aren't you a little curious yourself?"

Truth be told, Harry _was _curious. As much as he didn't want to go along with Tracey out of principle (Hermione would be aghast that he had broken school rules), he had wanted to search what was hidden inside the third floor corridor. And Tracey had a point. Several others had already tried, and though they failed, not one of them came out of it harmed. The only repercussions of seeing what was in there would be detention and a loss of points if they got caught.

_I can't believe I'm going along with this but… _"Okay. We'll see what Theodore is up to, but promise me that if things go awry, we leave immediately."

Tracey beamed and nodded exuberantly.

"I promise! Now let's go before Theodore gets too far!"

And like that, Tracey dragged him towards the third floor. It took a lot of maneuvering to avoid being seen and waiting for the stairs to be aligned correctly, but eventually they were able to step foot onto the third floor landing without any hiccups. Harry remained apprehensive over the whole ordeal, but he had to admit that he was slowly bubbling with excitement over their little quest. He had always intended to explore the castle, but with assignments and practice plaguing him, it was difficult to find time to actually do so.

The third floor housed many things. Lessons for Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts were held in classrooms on the floor. Better yet, the Hogwarts library made its home there. Harry found that he spent most of his time on the third floor because of it. However, in the opposite direction of where all these places of interests were located laid a largely forgotten corridor that probably would not have warranted any interest at all if it were not for the Headmaster's forbiddance to enter it.

After making sure that there was no one around to catch them entering the corridor, Harry and Tracey hurriedly walked in. The first thing that Harry noticed as he marched through the threshold separating the out-of-bounds zone from the rest of the third floor was how shockingly filthy it was. Harry always marveled how clean the school was despite being an age-old castle. He often wondered how everything was kept spotless. It was said that the caretaker, Argus Filch, cleaned Hogwarts every day, but Harry doubted a single man could clean every nook and cranny of the place.

The third floor corridor was a stark contrast to the rest of Hogwarts. Cobwebs littered the place everywhere from the floor to the ceiling. Dirt and grime covered the walls and ground, piling up on one another until the part of the castle it was on top of became an unrecognizable patch of black. Unlike the rest of Hogwarts, the spells that lit up the halls and rooms were not present, leaving only dimly-lit torches to light the area up. . Overall, the corridor had a foreboding ambiance that made Harry hesitant to traverse deeper in.

"Wow," Tracey gasped in awe, "this is a _really _creepy place."

"Does this mean we can leave?" Harry asked in his usual deadpan delivery.

Tracey shook her head vigorously.

"We already came this far! Why stop now?"

"I don't know, Tracey. Maybe because we could potentially _die_? I think I said this earlier."

"You're no fun, Black." She replied, rolling her eyes at him.

Instead of continuing the conversation, Tracey walked away from him and trudged deeper into the abandoned corridor. As much as Harry wanted to turn around and go back to the Slytherin common room, he knew he couldn't leave his friend behind. Frustrated, Harry took off after her, matching her pace by her side. Her lips curved into a triumphant smirk as he caught up next to her, making it abundantly clear to him that Tracey had expected him to follow despite his complaints.

They continued their venture inward, talking little except for a few observations they had made. Tracey had pointed out that there were several rooms with the doors already opened up enough for someone in the hall to peek in without having to walk into it. Harry offered a theory that someone was systematically opening each one up to mark that they had been in there. When asked why he thought so, Harry revealed that several cobwebs have been disturbed or that there were footsteps left on the ground that led into the open rooms.

"So people really are trying to figure out the mystery of this corridor!" Tracey commented excitedly.

"I don't think it would be that easy. No one even knows what they're looking for. Besides, Dumbledore is barmy, right? Maybe he just didn't want the students to find his hidden drawer of socks? He seems crazy enough to do that."

Tracey frowned.

"I would be very angry if it turns out the mystery is the headmaster's socks. He really does seem barmy enough to do that."

Harry lightly laughed at that scenario, "Maybe it's not Dumbledore's socks, but something _much _more important…"

"Oh? Like what?" Tracey inquired, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.

"His rainbow-colored robes!"

Tracey groaned, covering her face with her hand and shaking her head wearily. Harry remained oblivious to her sudden change in demeanor as he remained content to chuckle at his own joke. He made a mental note to himself to repeat it to Hermione later.

"You're terrible at jokes…" Tracey bluntly told him.

Harry frowned.

"Hermione likes my jokes."

"Then you both have a strange sense of humor."

The two of them then grinned at one another and laughed. They continued their journey down the corridor after their laughter ceased, but strangely the sound of laughing didn't stop. Harry wondered if he was hearing an echo, but then took noticed that it wasn't his or Tracey's laughter he was hearing. It was much deeper. As he glanced over at Tracey, her eyes told him that she came to the same conclusion as he did: they were not alone.

Tracey looked worriedly over at Harry and said, "That doesn't sound like Theodore."

He nodded, agreeing with her.

"Stop it! Give it back!" Theodore's voice suddenly cried out amidst the guffaws.

"Theodore is in trouble, Black! We have to help him!" Tracey exclaimed, rushing quickly to his aid.

"Wait, hold on," Harry whispered, clutching her shoulders to prevent her from running off, "we just can't barge in there without knowing what's going on."

"But –"

"Trust me, Tracey. We'll help him, but not like that."

Tracey sighed, conceding, "Okay, Black. You have a point. But let's hurry, okay?"

"Okay." He told her as he gave her a rare smile meant to reassure her.

The two first years approached the bend that led to where they heard Theodore and the source of the laughter. Poking their heads from around the bend, they attempted to glimpse what was further ahead. There before them was the scene that had them hearing the distressed-sounding Theodore: their fellow Slytherin was in the center of two taller and older-looking male students wearing Gryffindor colors. They sported a fiery orange mane and were tossing back and forth a notebook to one another as Theodore futilely attempted to catch it in mid-air.

"Oh no, it's the Weasley twins!" Tracey announced, her voice suddenly taking a sour tone. "Why did it have to be them?"

Harry found himself agreeing with Tracey. Everyone in Slytherin knew who the Weasley twins were. They were infamous pranksters that set up pranks of all sorts on everyone in Hogwarts. However, their favorite targets were usually Slytherin students. More than once, Harry had seen a few older students in his House come to the common room with polka dots on their skin or smelling like they just waded in a swamp for hours. No one was ever safe from the twins – it was only by pure chance that Harry hadn't been a victim of the notorious pair.

"Hey George," said the one closest to Harry and Tracey, "the ickle firstie wants us to stop."

"Is that so, Fred?" asked George, grinning mischievously at his twin.

"Quite." Fred answered briefly. "Though I suggest we shouldn't."

George caught the notebook, extending his arm over his head as Theodore attempted to jump and grab it.

"Please, give it back! I didn't do anything to you!" Theodore told them, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Well, not you personally, but you're a Slytherin! You're bound to do something eventually." Fred retorted, catching the notebook with just one hand and whooping in amusement at his deed. "It's really the principle of the matter."

Before Theodore could respond, he fell to his knees and began having a coughing fit. At the sight of this, Harry was immediately alarmed. Theodore always appeared sickly-looking, but never had he seen the boy in that state before. His running back and forth from one twin to the other must have been strenuous on his body. Upon seeing his housemate in such sorry form, Harry decided it was time to take action.

Turning to Tracey, he asked hurriedly, "What spells do you know?"

"Um, I just know the Cheering Charm from when Hermione –"

"Good enough. Follow my lead."

"Wait, Black, what are you do–"

Harry didn't stay long to hear out her sentence. He shot out of the bend and immediately pulled out his wand. Aiming at Fred, Harry made the necessary wand movements for his spell and shouted, "_Petrificus Totalus_!"

A sudden bolt of light was shot forth from the tip of his wand, hitting Fred Weasley. The prankster's arms and legs immediately snapped together, locking his limbs in place. With his balance lost, Fred fell backwards and landed on the floor unharmed. George remained paralyzed in surprise by the sudden attack and before he could take his own wand out, Harry fired another Full Body-Bind Curse at the twin.

Unfortunately for Harry, George was far nimbler than he expected. The Gryffindor was quick to dodge the spell and had taken his own wand out. Before Harry could even react, the older teen extended his wand arm out and pointed his catalyst at Harry, casting a spell of his own, "_Expelliarmus_!"

Harry stumbled backwards as a red bolt struck his wand hand. He lost grip of his wand and watched in horror as his wand was sent careening towards George. The Gryffindor smirked and caught the wand, keeping his own pointed at Harry whom was now defenseless.

"That certainly surprised me! But it would take more than that to take a Weasley down!" George boasted, grinning triumphantly at Harry. He turned his eyes onto his bound brother and said, "Hey Fred, an ickle firstie got you."

Then George laughed again. And he continued laughing. Harry watched puzzled as the prankster was progressively laughing harder and harder. George sunk to his knees, clutching his sides as he laughed and laughed. He just couldn't stop.

"I am the Dark Lady Ticklemort! Fear me for I shall cast an unending, torturous case of the giggles upon all those that oppose me!" Tracey said, appearing around the bend with a large grin on her face.

Harry couldn't help but stare at her oddly.

"I may have put a little too much power in that Cheering Charm…" She muttered quietly.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!"

George immediately stopped laughing and took on the same bound form as his twin brother. Harry and Tracey looked over towards the direction of the caster and found Theodore pointing his wand at George. Harry couldn't tell if he was breathing heavily from his earlier coughing fit or the fact that he had just used a spell on one of his earlier tormentors. Whichever the case was, Harry was glad that he appeared alright.

"I can't believe we just took down two third years! And it's the Weasley twins too!" Tracey remarked, looking stunned at their current situation. "Wait, Black, what are you doing?"

Harry didn't answer right away. He knelt beside George and attempted to wrest away his own wand from his hands. It took a bit of struggling, but his wand was returned to him. Sighing in relief that his wand looked to be undamaged, Harry proceeded to take the twins' own wands away as a precaution.

"It's just to be safe." Harry finally answered.

Theodore picked up his notebook that had been dropped during the scuffle. The pale boy looked admiringly at Harry and Tracey, approaching them shyly with trepidation.

"Thanks for helping me." Theodore thanked them sincerely.

Tracey smiled proudly.

"Us Slytherins have to stick together! Although you should thank Black the most. He was the one that sprung into action!"

"Are you alright?" Harry inquired Theodore with great concern. "We saw you coughing badly. Do you need to be taken to the infirmary?"

"No, no, I'm fine, Black! I just strained myself is all…" Theodore explained. "It's really not a problem."

Although Harry didn't really believe him, he decided not to press. Instead he returned his attention to the bound twins and glared at them. Harry didn't particularly like bullies. They had been all too common in school before Hogwarts. Although Hermione had friends, there was always one person that would try to bully her each year. It had always been up to him to stop that person each time. With the help of Dudley, whom he bribed with some homemade brownies he baked, Harry always managed to take care of the bully each time.

"What are we going to do with them, Black?" Tracey posed the question that was in Harry's mind.

"I'm going to talk to them. Keep your wands out."

Tracey and Theodore did as they were told and kept their wands trained on the twins. Harry noticed the apprehensive look on their faces, but Harry disregarded their worries. He reversed the effects of the body bind with the counter-curse, freeing Fred and George from their invisible shackles. As they stood up, Harry kept his focus on them, making sure they didn't try anything hostile. He still had their wands, but that really didn't guarantee that they would remain peaceful. They were still more physically capable than the three first years.

To the Slytherins' surprise, Fred and George turned to Theodore and apologized.

"Sorry about that, Nott." Fred said, grinning weakly. "We didn't mean to do all that."

George elbowed Fred to the side.

"Well, honestly, we meant to prank and tease you and all, but I think it's safe to say that things got out of hand."

"Right! We didn't know that you were going to get sick!"

Harry didn't look convinced, but then again, he typically remained passive. He caught the look of shock on Tracey's face, but Theodore appeared contemplative over their apology.

"That sounds a bit too convenient." Harry bluntly remarked, scoffing at the twins.

"Oi! We're pranksters! We just want to get a laugh from others and for ourselves! We never want to hurt anyone! Sure we can make a bloke want to scratch his arse nonstop if we want to, but it doesn't mean we want to see him in the infirmary in pain!" Fred explained passionately, insulted by what Harry was implying.

Despite his misgivings for the twins, Harry did notice the sincerity with what Fred was saying. However, Harry couldn't forget what they did to Theodore and although he was not friends with the sickly boy, he didn't like watching others being bullied.

Folding his arms, Harry unflinchingly remained stalwart, attempting his best to look intimidating to the twins despite being only three-fourths their height.

"I should report you to Professor McGonagall. Although we may all get in trouble for being in the corridor, I don't think she'll take too kindly of you for putting Theodore in a coughing fit. Tracey, Theodore, and I may get detention, but knowing how strict Professor McGonagall can be, your punishment from her would be much worse."

The fearful expressions on their face told Harry all he needed to know.

"But I think we can forget about this," Harry told them, breaking his reserved appearance by smiling softly at them, "if you're willing to make a deal."

Fred and George gazed suspiciously at Harry.

"What do you mean…" one twin started.

And the other twin finished, "…make a deal?"

"It's simple. You promise not to target any of my friends with your pranks and I promise not to tell on you to Professor McGonagall."

"Done!" The twins instantly accepted.

"Now, can Fred and I have our wands back?" George asked.

Harry shook his head and smiled again.

"No. You have to make another deal with me."

Fred's mouth gaped open and he shouted, "That's not fair!"

"You accepted it before you can make your own conditions. It's your own fault. Besides, you can't ask one of the staff to have me return your wands. You two will have to explain why you don't have your wands. If you tell the truth, you're in trouble. If you lie, I'll tell the truth when they confront me."

The young Head of the Black Family watched as the twins become frustrated with what was happening. In all honesty, Harry knew that he really didn't have much of an advantage. But by leading Fred and George into believing that things could become unfavorable to them, Harry would be able to control them into doing what he wanted them to do.

"Well, what do you want?" Fred submitted, now glaring at Harry along with his brother.

"I want…" Harry paused, tapping his finger against his chin as he attempted to appear thoughtful, "…to be friends with you two."

Like he had thought, the twins, Tracey, and Theodore stared at him as if he was mad. Truthfully, Harry wasn't sure how he felt about the Weasley twins. They could be vicious pranksters – that was something he just witnessed firsthand – but yet they had no qualms leaving their pride behind to apologize if their pranks got out of hand. They weren't like the other bullies he had encountered before. Fred and George really did appear to be repentant when they realized what they had done to Theodore.

But there was more to it than that. Even though it was now October and plenty of things have already happened, Harry couldn't forget the sorting ceremony. He didn't know who Fred and George were then, but he recalled the twins welcoming Hermione to her house even after she stood up to Henry. When he saw that happened, Harry's worry for his best friend then had been slightly relieved.

"So everything you said…" George started.

"…was a lie?" Fred ended.

Harry smirked.

"I would prefer you call it a Slytherin-style prank."

And with that, the dam had burst. Fred and George were howling madly in laughter. Harry figured that the tension of being in trouble had been alleviated and thus were now laughing because all of the tension had been alleviated. Glancing over to Tracey and Theodore, he saw Tracey eyeing him with an amused stare whereas Theodore simply watched him with admiration in his eyes.

"You know, Black. You're not half-bad." Fred proclaimed, patting Harry on the shoulder. "You really got George and I! Isn't that right, George?"

"I'll say!" George grinned. "I nearly gone and wet myself!"

"So, what do you say? Friends?" Harry asked, offering his hand to the twins.

Both twins grinned mischievously and nodded, taking Harry's hands and shaking it jovially.

"Friends!"

Once the twins released their grip on him, Harry reached into his back pocket that stored their wands and returned them back to their rightful owners. Despite having extended a friendship towards the two pranksters, Harry was still wary of them. Fortunately, the Gryffindors made no move to retaliate.

"I still can't believe we got done in by three first years." Fred mentioned with a chuckle. "I don't think we can ever mention this, George."

George nodded, but instead of replying, he addressed Harry, "You're nothing like Henry described you as being. We thought we had you pegged as a brooding Dark Lord in the making! Though then again, with what that bushy-haired first year says about you…"

"Who could blame us, George?" Fred interrupted him, "Black here hardly ever smiles and when he does, it's like he's up to something diabolic!"

"Are you afraid of a first year?"

"Utter nonsense! Maybe you're the one intimidated?"

"Hardly, I was the one that disarmed him, not you."

"Only to be taken down by Nott over there."

The twins bantered and bickered casually, leaving the three Slytherins out of the loop. Their way of speaking back and forth to one another at a swift pace had Harry comparing them to a tennis match! Having enough of their nonsense, Harry politely coughed into his fist-formed hand and gained their attention.

"So no holding grudges?"

Fred and George glanced at one another briefly, communicating silently with one another. After a moment, Fred declared, "Anyone that can prank us is good in our books."

"Even if I'm in Slytherin?" Harry asked with an arched eyebrow.

"What's life without risks?" He replied with a boyish grin.

"By the way," George interjected, casting his focus on Theodore, "we want to apologize again for sending you into a coughing fit. You may be our house rival, but you didn't deserve that. Unless you're doing something suspicious… _are you_?"

Theodore paled.

"George, you're scaring him!" Fred scolded his brother playfully, lightly smacking the back of his head.

"Just a joke, Nott! You're not the first one sneaking into this corridor!"

A few more jokes were shared between brothers, but even they began to feel the awkward tension between them and the first years. Although Harry had managed to defuse the situation, he couldn't pretend that it had been odd how easily the twins were able to be at ease around them. Maybe they never really thought about the consequences of their pranks and how it may have affected others. It was ignorant of them, but everyone had their flaws. Still, Harry couldn't dismiss that perhaps it was because of him that had them act this way. They did mention a bushy-haired witch talked about him to the twins and Harry knew only one person that matched that description.

"Anyway, we'll leave you three to do whatever it is that you're up to." One of the twins stated, though Harry was unsure who it was that said it. "Mum's the word. If you figure out the secret of the mysterious corridor, tell us all about it!"

"See you some other time, chaps." The other gave his farewell.

Fred and George soon left, leaving the Slytherin party the only three left in the corridor. Harry watched them walk away and observed their faces contorting into a grim expression. They were talking, but they were too far for him to hear. He saw George's eyes sometimes fall on Theodore, making Harry curious as to what their conversation was about. It may have been wishful thinking on his part, but Harry hoped that they had come to realize the repercussions of some of their pranks.

Harry then turned his attention onto Tracey and Theodore, wondering why they had remained silent throughout the entire exchange. He was unsurprised to find them wracked with nerves. With the way Tracey had described the twins earlier, Harry could understand that she had been rather intimidated by them. And with what they had done to Theodore, Harry couldn't blame the boy not feeling up to addressing his former tormentors. Even with the twins gone, the tension still remained.

"Really, Tracey? Dark Lady Ticklemort?" Harry suddenly asked her, raising an eyebrow over at his companion and hoping to alleviate strained atmosphere with some humor.

Tracey crossed her arms and scowled.

"Shut it, Black. I was panicking so I may have been slightly delirious. Besides, it saved you, didn't it?"

"I won't deny it," Harry accepted, returning to his deadpan tone, "but I never heard of someone losing a duel because of a Cheering Charm."

"Actually, in the finals of the 1919 European dueling competition, Montgomery, the champion, defended his title by applying the Cheering Charm on his opponent, securing his victory and continued reign."

Harry decided to forgo making a comment. Instead, he turned to Theodore, wanting to ask him the question that had been bothering him since he entered the corridor with Tracey.

"Why are you here, Theodore?"

All eyes were on Theodore once the question was asked. The sickly boy glanced nervously from Harry to Tracey, hugging his notebook close to his chest. For a moment, it appeared Theodore wasn't going to say anything but soon a sense of serenity seemed to have suddenly washed over him. He shed his nervous, shy behavior and replaced it with a bold and confident one that Harry had never seen before in all of the instances he had seen him.

"I'll show you." Theodore softly breathed out. "But you two have to promise me you're going to keep it a secret."

The sudden shift in bearing startled Harry, leading him to believe that whatever Theodore uncovered, it was dire that it remained private. Tracey appeared uncertain whether or not to promise that, but Harry quickly urged her to make the promise. He did the same and soon Theodore gestured for them to follow. Without a doubt, Harry was very curious what Theodore wanted to show them.

"A few days ago, I saw Professor Quirrell enter the corridor. I was curious what he was going to do here so I followed after him." Theodore began explaining, leading Harry and Tracey into different turns and passages. "He led me down to all sorts of pathways until we finally came across this door."

He ceased walking, stopping in front of what appeared to be a simple door. It wasn't anything special and it certainly didn't appear as if it could contain the secret of the third floor corridor. Theodore opened his notebook and began turning the pages. Harry peered over to find that in those pages were various notes Theodore had taken. His handwriting was messy, making it difficult to read. However, Harry did recognize some Latin phrases that may have been spells.

"I tried opening this door, but it was locked. So for the past few days, I was searching for a spell that could unlock things. I only found a spell that was simple to learn and was capable of doing just that. I wanted to try it out right away but as you can guess, the Weasley twins found me while I was trying to head here."

"Don't worry, Theodore. Thanks to Black, you never have to worry about the twins pranking you." Tracey reassured him.

"So you want to try and unlock the door to see what's inside?" Harry asked Theodore, focusing more on the task at hand.

Theodore nodded ecstatically.

"Yes! Together we can figure out the mystery of this corridor!"

Tracey grinned and nudged Harry. She said, "See, Black, I told you coming here was a great idea. We'll solve the secret and none of us got killed."

"And what if the thing that could get us killed is hidden behind this very door?" Harry made his rebuttal, frowning at Tracey's incessant exuberance over the whole corridor.

"I don't think anything is out to kill us. It's probably just the headmaster not wanting to encourage us to find it. I saw Professor Quirrell enter and leave unharmed." Theodore argued back.

Harry knew then that nothing he said would contain his two housemates from opening Pandora's Box.

"Fine, you two win. What's the spell to open the door?"

Tracey and Theodore beamed. The latter opened up a page of his notebook to the spell he wanted to use. The spell was known simply as the Unlocking Charm. It had the incantation of _Alohomora _and its hand movement was an easy, inverted S-pattern. It didn't take long for both Harry and Tracey to have the spell down.

"Okay, I'll try first." Theodore claimed. Doing the necessary movements, he pointed to the doorknob and cast, "_Alohomora_!"

Nothing happened.

"Try opening it." Tracey suggested.

With a shrug, Theodore reached his hand out and turned the knob. Unfortunately, the spell didn't work and the knob merely turned halfway before it could go no further. The door remained locked.

"You probably did it wrong." Tracey addressed Theodore candidly. "I bet if I do it, we'll have it opened!"

Theodore stepped back, letting Tracey have her shot at unlocking the door. Like Theodore before her, Tracey conducted the spell and nothing seemed to have occurred. And just like Theodore, the door remained locked, leaving Tracey both disappointed and embarrassed, her bold claim having fallen short.

"Black, it's your turn to try." Theodore said, gazing excitedly at him. "It would probably work if you do it."

"Definitely, Black always gets the most points in Charms."

"If it couldn't work for you two, why would you think it would work for me? You're mad if you think I'll make any difference." Harry pointed out, refusing to join in on their attempts. He didn't feel right about doing this. Something beyond that door was giving him a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. His instincts were screaming not to do anything further.

Tracey sighed exasperatedly

"Come on, Black. What's there to lose? If you can't open it either, then we'll turn back and head to the library. We can say we tried and that will be the end of that for the rest of the year."

Harry knew she made a valid point. If he continued to refuse, Tracey would simply pester him to do it until he caved. He thought himself to be willful and able to resist such behavior, but he had underestimated the tenacity that a girl like Tracey could display.

"_Alohomora_." He drawled dully. "Now, let me show you that I didn't make a difference whatso-"

_Click!_

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter!


	12. The Room and Halloween

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: First of all, I would like to apologise for not having this chapter up sooner. Overall, my life has been rather hectic, leaving me only time to write one-shots every now and then or the occasional sentences and paragraphs for longer works. Now enjoy the story!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter XI<strong>

**The Room and Halloween**

* * *

><p>Harry couldn't believe it. The door had <em>unlocked<em>. Admittedly, he would have been proud of such an accomplishment if it were not for the grave implications of possible consequences for doing so. He couldn't wrap his head around why he was successful whereas his cohorts had failed. Harry wasn't so arrogant to think that he was gifted—no, there had to be another reason why he was able to unlock it.

"I can't believe it!" Tracey shouted, astonishment overcoming her. "You actually managed to open it, Black!"

"This doesn't make any sense! We all used the same spell, why is it only Black is able to succeed?" Theodore asked, more to himself than anyone else.

Tracey glanced over at Theodore and frowned. "It's obvious isn't it? Black is just a great wizard!"

Harry rolled his eyes at Tracey's compliment. Though he was flattered, the Head of the Blacks didn't believe he was special. It took both studying and practice; something he did quite frequently with Hermione. If others had placed the same amount of effort into their studies like he and Hermione did, they would surely be called "great" too—even dullards such as Crabbe and Goyle.

"Well, let's go inside then!" Tracey announced with barely held excitement.

Harry whipped around, glaring at the reckless girl, and said, "Haven't I warned you that it may be dangerous?"

"Please, Black! Aren't you the least bit curious over what we may find?" Theodore defended Tracey, drawing Harry's frustration away from her.

There was no mistaking that Harry was very curious. He wanted to see for himself the secret as much as he wanted to just walk away. Harry knew his protective instincts stemmed from all those years with Hermione during primary school; she was a very curious girl then (and even now, come to think of it).

Once again, Harry relented. "Very well, but let's be careful, alright?"

Tracey and Theodore smiled, nodding their heads enthusiastically. Harry couldn't help but smile inwardly as they reminded him of his best friend. He took the lead in this venture, opening the door that was previously locked. It was dark as there was barely any light entering the room. Behind him, Tracey and Theodore pushed forward, urging Harry to enter.

He could feel his heart racing out of fear for the unknown. What if there was a deadly creature he learned from Defence Against the Dark Arts inside? Nervously, Harry pushed forward slowly. There was certainly an ominous atmosphere about.

_Thud._

Harry jerked and turned around, finding Theodore had shut the door.

"Sorry," he apologised quietly. "I didn't want someone see the door opened and investigate."

Though he disagreed with the idea (there could be a need for a quick escape), Harry couldn't fault Theodore for thinking cautiously. Sighing, he continued moving forward, his hand clutching his wand tightly. Before he could take another step, Harry felt soft hands clutch his wrist and pulling him back.

"Black, wait," Tracey whispered. "Do you hear that?"

The Slytherin party stopped in their tracks and opened their ears to listen whatever it was that caught Tracey's attention. Harry strained his ear, trying to find what she had heard. Then he heard it. It was soft, but Harry could definitely hear it. Something in the room was breathing. The breathing was slow but steady; he swore he could hear faint snoring as well. Whatever it was, it was sleeping.

"Oh, I know a spell so we could see. We learned it in class," chimed Theodore happily.

"No, wait!" Harry yelled in a hushed tone.

He was too late. Theodore had cast his spell. "_Lumos!_"

Theodore's wand ignited. The tip of his wand was suddenly basked in a bright, white orb, lighting the room and chasing away most of the darkness. It turned out the room was large, larger than any room they had ever been in before but still smaller than the Great Hall. In the centre of the room was a creature that was not only huge, but covered with fur.

"Is that a giant dog?" Tracey asked fearfully, suddenly clutching Harry's arm much to his surprise. "I'm afraid of dogs!"

Harry knew something about dogs. Dogs were man's stalwart companions. They were fiercely loyal and have been used to defend homes for thousands of years (or so he learned from his books). They had keen senses, making them great guardians. The sudden brightness of the room thanks to Theodore, Tracey's exclaimed surprise and fear, and probably their unfamiliar scent would no doubt alert any dog.

Sometimes, Harry hated when he was right.

The giant dog suddenly growled—menacingly at that. Slowly, its giant frame lumbered upward as the canine awoke from its slumber. Its legs shifted apart, taking on a defensive stance against what it perceived as intruders. However, it was not just a giant dog. A second growling commenced followed by a third. Harry nearly gasped; it had three heads!

"No, Tracey," Harry answered her calmly. "It's a giant, _three-headed_ dog."

"WHA—"

Harry suddenly took his hand and clamped it on her mouth, silencing her. "Quiet, Tracey!"

"B-black, w-w-what do we d-do?" stuttered Theodore behind him.

He could feel all eyes were on him, including the giant, three-headed dog. Tracey and Theodore were relying on him. Harry quickly began analysing the situation at hand, his eyes jumping all over the place. Strangely, he spotted what seemed to be a trapdoor underneath the dog's foot. However, he ignored that. That wouldn't be helpful at all at the present.

"Theodore," Harry addressed the boy calmly, "we're going to back away slowly. No sudden movements, alright? You open the door and then all of us can get out."

Harry didn't need to look at him to know that he nodded in agreement. Slowly, but carefully, the group started to back away slowly from the guard dog. Tracey was clutching his arm tightly, nearly shivering out of fear. As they slowly stepped back, the dog was edging closer and closer as it continued growling. It was so very intimidating.

"Black, it's open!" Theodore cried.

Not needing to be told twice, Harry pushed Tracey backwards, sending her into the arms of Theodore. The pair toppled onto the floor into the hallway. With a snap, Harry turned and sprinted. The dog's three heads barked loudly and gave chase. However, Harry was much too fast! He was able to exit the room and close the door before it got even close. His heart felt like he just ran a marathon.

"Are we safe?" Tracey whimpered quietly, helping Theodore stand back up.

Harry nodded. "Yes, we're safe now, Tracey."

Without warning, the girl threw herself into Harry's arms and held him tightly. She was still shivering out of fear and Harry couldn't help but sympathise. Tracey admitted she was afraid of dogs. Seeing a giant, three-headed dog was no doubt frightening to her.

"That was a Cerberus," Theodore said between coughs. "Why is there a Cerberus here in the castle?"

Harry knew what a Cerberus was. At least, he thought he knew. He learned about them in Greek mythology in which it was represented as a giant, three-headed dog guarded the entrance to the underworld where the souls of the dead were kept. Apparently, they _were_ real.

_It may have been guarding something, _Harry thought. _It's the trapdoor!_

He soon understood the connection between the Cerberus and the trapdoor. There was more to the secret than a guard dog. Something was being kept in the school and defences were needed for it. However, as he looked at Tracey and Theodore, Harry dared not tell them lest they put themselves in more danger.

"Come on, Tracey, let's go back to the common room," Harry said to her softly, dropping his cool mask a little.

Tracey didn't answer but nodded. She finally freed Harry from her hug, but didn't let go of his hand. Harry didn't mind giving her this much. Harry looked to Theodore wondering if he wanted to go to the common room too. He nodded; there was a tired look in his eyes.

Once again, Harry took charge of the party and began to lead them out of the corridor, having remembered how Theodore brought them to the Room (as he thought to dub it) in the first place. However, he suddenly stopped, having thought he saw the end of dark robes around a corner. Had someone seen them?

"What's wrong?" asked Theodore worriedly.

Harry shook his head. He was being paranoid. He checked again and found nothing.

"Nothing," he assured him. "It was just my imagination..."

* * *

><p>After coming face to face with the Cerberus, Harry, Tracey, and Theodore made an unspoken agreement to never speak of it again. Theodore agreed that they had stumbled onto something dangerous and was more than content to halt his investigation. Tracey recovered from the scare easily enough—all it took was a kip followed by dinner to return to her boisterous self.<p>

Harry, on the other hand, could not help but think about the trapdoor that the Cerberus was guarding. What was hidden in it, he often wondered. He also never told Hermione what he found either. She tended to worry and he didn't want to place that burden on her. When she asked him that day why he was late, he merely told her that practice had run later than usual. Though she believed it, Harry felt guilty for lying to his best friend, even when it was necessary.

The next few days also marked a change with Theodore. He found a companion in Harry and it was often that the two would talk about their favourite subjects. It was good to have a male friend. To be honest, he was growing a little nauseated with how his circle was made up mostly of girls. Though when he invited Theodore to his study sessions in the evenings Theodore refused. Harry thought he was bigoted like Malfoy at first but it seemed he was leerier spending time with Greengrass than with a muggleborn. He wondered what their relation was.

It was now Halloween morning. Throughout the corridors, everyone could smell the delicious aroma of the various Halloween treats wafting about. The Great Hall was tastefully decorated with pumpkins, bringing about the spirit of the holiday. However, many celebrated it as the day Voldemort was vanquished. To Harry, the day reminded him that his mother was murdered.

He never had trouble with the day before. Harry remembered festive evenings with Hermione when they were younger. However, this was the first year he was aware that his mother died on this day. He couldn't help but feel guilty of all the times he spent having fun when he could have been honouring his mother by mourning her. There was a dark cloud hanging over his head and Harry was certainly hoping the day would end soon. Thinking about his mother hurt too much.

"Harry, will you be okay?" asked Hermione, uncharacteristically shy. She knew him well and it was redundant to ask "Are you alright?" or "How are you feeling?" when she obviously was aware of what had happened on Halloween a decade ago.

"I will be," Harry told her, a melancholic taking root in his tone. "Professor Snape told me a lot about her recently. She was very bright. Just like you."

Hermione blushed. "I can't imagine that I'm as smart as her. From what you've told me, she was a genius."

He chuckled. Hermione was always so humble in the face of compliments and praise. He knew deep down that Hermione was happy about it nevertheless. They resumed their normal silence as they continued to study, but Harry's mind was far too busy to buckle down and read his books.

"I'm not looking forward to tonight," Harry remarked. "The upper years told me that there is a feast every year. I don't think I want to be part of something so celebratory. I would just dampen everyone else's festive mood."

His best friend looked at him with scrutiny, pursing her lips in thought. "If you don't want to go, then don't go. It's simple as that, Harry."

"I don't think I can." Harry frowned. "Aren't we all supposed to attend?"

She shook her head and replied, "That may be true, but I'm sure we can get special permission from our Head of House!"

"What is this 'we' business?"

"Naturally, it means I'll be skipping with you," Hermione stated as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. "I'm not going to let you spend Halloween alone if you're not feeling well. What kind of friend would I be?"

As much as Harry wanted to protest, he didn't. Truth be told, if he was going to skip the Halloween feast, Harry wanted Hermione beside him the entire time. No, not wanted, _needed_. No one else could fulfil the role Hermione had in his life. Harry smiled at Hermione, showing her that he was fine if she came along with him.

"Good! Don't you worry, Harry, I'll take care of everything."

* * *

><p>In a rare moment of her educational career, Hermione couldn't wait until class was over. As much as she enjoyed learning Charms in Professor Flitwick's classroom, she could not wait for the school day to end. Not even the prospect of being able to start making objects fly, something Hermione had been excited for since she read about it, would quell Hermione's excitement in beginning her mission to make Harry smile today.<p>

However, so busy was she in her thoughts, Hermione neglected finding a partner once Professor Flitwick called for the class to split up in pairs. Her usual partner, Fay, was swiftly taken by another classmate and before she knew it, Hermione was now stuck with _him_, Henry Potter. Hermione didn't know who she should be angrier with—herself for not paying attention or _him_ for wanting to partner up with her.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too—never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Hermione didn't need Professor Flitwick's warning. She had read up ahead of time and practiced with Harry just the previous evening. There was no worry that she would fail in making a simple, lightweight feather move up skyward. As she glanced around the room, she could tell that many of the other students weren't doing so well.

"If you need help, Granger, I'll be more than glad to lend a hand!" Henry, her partner, offered pompously, attempting to flash a dashing smile her way.

"Honestly, Potter, I don't need _your_ help with something basic as this," Hermione answered him with a scoff. She looked sideways, eyeing Ron Weasley trying and failing, making a fool of himself by waving his long arms like a windmill. "Your friend, on the other hand, does."

"Ugh! Why isn't this working?" Ron shouted, disgruntled.

Ron's partner, Neville, chuckled. "It's because you're saying it wrong."

"Well, then how do you say it?"

Hermione turned to Ron and smirked smugly at him. "It's Wing-_gar_-dium Levi-_o_-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.

Hermione simply smiled at the challenge, flicked her wand, and said, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

Suddenly, Henry and Hermione's feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads. Hermione once again grinned triumphantly at the red-haired boy's direction, making him roll his eyes and scowl at being proven the less proficient one in magic.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Henry, in particular, took a noted interest in Hermione's feather and smiled at her. "Wow, you're really brilliant, Granger."

Hermione decided it was best to ignore him. Professor Flitwick gave her more points and the class ended. Ron, a very prideful boy, was in a bad mood. As Hermione was packing up, she heard him complain to Henry and Neville, "I don't know how you can stand her, Henry. No one else does. She's a nightmare, honestly."

An insecure part of herself was hurt by Ron's words, but she decided to pay no heed to it. Hermione had dealt with rivals throughout her entire academic career. Harry had always reminded her that they were just jealous that they were not as smart as her. Hermione took her bag and pushed her way through Henry and Ron, her nose was turned upward to show they were beneath her.

As she hurried to her next class, Hermione overheard Lavender Brown loudly telling off Ron. "You take that back! Hermione is a nice girl! She helps me with my schoolwork!"

In a graver tone that was a stark contrast to his usual joviality, Henry told Ron, "You shouldn't make fun of her, mate."

"What? You're taking Granger's side too!" sputtered Ron.

Hermione laughed, she had no sympathy for Ron. By the time she reached the next class, Ron looked reasonably abashed and looked rather awkward. Henry tried to give her an apologetic smile, but she mostly ignored him. The girls were trying to comfort her, thinking that she had her feelings hurt, but she honestly didn't care about Ron's opinion about herself.

Once class ended, Hermione was the first to leave the classroom. As the corridors started to fill with students, Hermione pushed through the crowd and rushed in the direction of the dungeons, hoping that Professor Snape was in his office and not teaching a class. She heard her name being shouted but she was too focused on her mission to hear them.

The trip to the dungeons didn't take long, having learned to navigate the magical, but often frustrating, staircases and avoid Peeves, who have been targeting the Gryffindor first years more than anyone else lately with his annoying pranks and jeering. As she walked to Professor Snape's office, Hermione couldn't help but notice the stares and sneers directed at her by the members of Slytherin out and about. The Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry was quite fierce (though Hermione was fairly sure that some looked at her with disdain for more bigoted reasons).

Despite the rather unwelcoming glances made her way, she maintained her driven stride. Unfortunately, her determined focus made her lose awareness of her surroundings. Hermione felt her ankle caught onto something, interrupting her hurried pace and making her fall forward. Fortunately, years of practicing fencing allowed her to catch herself before her face connected with the stone floor. Still the force of the impact stung the palm of her hands.

"Ha! Granger got caught by a tripping jinx!" cried the familiar snotty voice of Draco Malfoy.

Hermione stood up and glared at the blonde prat. He was laughing at her along with the two oafs that always seemed to be by his side. The other Slytherins that caught her falling were laughing as well, but mostly the lower years—perhaps the older students thought it was above them?

Malfoy looked around him and frowned, appearing disappointed that only a minority of the Slytherins were joining him in his mocking chortling. "Why aren't the rest of you laughing?"

As if on cue, the sea of students milling about the corridor parted as a menacing Professor Snape was making his way through. While Professor Snape was known to look constantly dour, he looked far angrier than the norm. His calm features were replaced by a intimidating scowl and a piercing glare. He looked like he was on the war path.

"I suppose you find it funny that you think you could get away with placing a hex on another student?" asked Professor Snape, closing on Malfoy and his two goons.

"It wasn't—"

"Are you thinking of lying to your Head of House?" he spat, interrupting Malfoy's protest.

Malfoy paled, stuttering, "N-no, o-of c-c-course not!"

As Professor Snape dealt with Malfoy, Hermione looked around her, notably confused by Professor Snape's ire. She strained her ears to listen as there were others like her that were baffled as well by Professor Snape's behaviour and thought to ask the older students. Luckily, she was able to catch a few bits; evidently Professor Snape was at his foulest on Halloween.

Professor Snape snapped up from his dressing down of Malfoy and glared balefully at the crowd of onlookers. "What are you all doing milling about like buffoons? Move!"

Although his words were still quite calm and barely above his usual pitch, there was a forceful authority behind it that brokered no argument against him. All of the students started to scatter, either heading to their common room or some other part of the castle since classes were over. The only students that remained in the corridor were Hermione, Malfoy and his stooges.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Malfoy, my office _now_!" the Slytherin Head of House hissed at Malfoy.

With a fearful nod, Malfoy hurried away with Crabbe and Goyle in tow, not even sparing a look at Hermione as he left. Speaking of the girl, Hermione gulped as she realized she was now alone with the professor that just sent nearly all of his students running with a few words and a menacing look. Never before did she feel intimidated in his presence. Harry had nothing but praise for his Head of House, but Hermione was definitely sure he had never seen this side of Professor Snape before. She worried if her mission was already doomed for failure.

"Granger," Professor Snape addressed her, still appearing irritated and angry. "I believe you Gryffindors have no business being in the dungeons this afternoon. What are you doing roaming the halls here?"

Hermione felt his forceful stare upon her causing her to tense up. She knew what she wanted to say, but it was a matter of actually saying it! Professor Snape was just too intimidating! An awkward silence fell between the two and Professor Snape appeared to be growing impatient.

"Very well, you are dismissed. I'll let you off with a warning, but if I catch you again, I will dismiss points," he said, moving to walk away.

Mustering up her courage (she _was_ in Gryffindor), Hermione hurriedly said, "Professor Snape, can you give Harry and I special permission to skip the Halloween feast held tonight?" Her cheeks flushed, she had said all that very quickly.

The Potions professor paused, stopping mid-step. After a moment of silence elapsed, he asked, "And why didn't Black ask me instead?"

Hermione blushed, and nervously responded, "I told Harry I would take care of everything. Today is upsetting for him and I wanted to help him..."

Professor Snape whirled around and faced her, staring at the young witch with a calculating gaze. "Very well," he said. "Black has my permission. However, as you are not in my House, you will need to ask _yours_."

She beamed; there was no need to worry about getting Professor McGonagall's permission. Hermione knew that the Gryffindor Head of House would understand if she asked. "Thank you very much, Professor!"

He nodded curtly before he once again turned—dramatically, of course—and left, presumably to his office to deal with Malfoy. Not wanting to stay in the dungeons any further and risk meeting other Slytherins, Hermione made it her mission to dash out of there as soon as possible, ignoring the curious glances the students made as she passed by.

Fortunately, Professor McGonagall's office was on the first floor of the castle at the bottom of the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower. The stern Transfiguration professor made sure that her first years knew exactly where to go if they ever needed her for some reason. Hermione made it a habit to know where each of her teachers' offices was located. It helped her a lot in the past.

Hermione approached the door to Professor McGonagall's office, fully confident that the Deputy Headmistress will give her permission to skip out on the Halloween Feast to tend to Harry. Without any doubt in her mind, Hermione rapped her fist on the door and patiently waited for an answer.

To Hermione's surprise, the door swung open, revealing Professor McGonagall at her desk with her wand out; she had used magic to open the door. "Miss Granger," she stated with pursed lips. "This is a surprise. Have you come to question the grade I gave you for your previous assignment?"

Hermione blushed, remembering that she visited Professor McGonagall before to discuss how to earn extra points. She shook her head, denying her claim. "No, not today, professor, I was just hoping I could talk to you about something."

"Very well," Professor McGonagall consented, beckoning Hermione to come in and take a seat on the chair in front of her desk. "How are you faring in Hogwarts? Has it been difficult to adjust?"

She shook her head, softly smiling as her mind brought back memories of the most enjoyable moments the school had given her so far. "I'm doing well, professor. I am excited to learn _everything _Hogwarts has to offer and I'm getting along well with everyone." She frowned, remembering Henry, Ron, and Neville. "Well, not _everyone_."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Yes, I can see how three young boys can be a bit aggravating for a mature girl such as yourself. Sadly, only time will tell if they grow up to be responsible, respectable men like their fathers."

Hermione watched the old woman carefully, vaguely wondering if the usually stern professor had actually softened a bit. She could definitely sense a wistful tone in her words.

"However," Professor McGonagall continued. "I'm sure that isn't why you came here, I presume?"

"Yes! Is it mandatory for all students to attend the feast tonight?" she asked, deciding to lunge straight to business.

"You are correct, Miss Granger. The feast is a celebration of You-Know-Who's defeat ten years ago and was made a holiday by the Ministry because of it in addition to Halloween. The Headmaster urges all of us to be present."

The girl frowned, not liking the way she phrased it. However, Hermione didn't waver and decided to ask, "With your permission, Professor McGonagall, may I be excused?"

Professor McGonagall stared at her, her lips thinning, and her eyebrows raised high in surprised. "Miss Granger, I believe I have just told you that all students are to attend."

"Of course, but perhaps I can have special permission to not go?"

"Absolutely not!" Professor McGonagall stated resolutely. "Just because you do not want to go mean that you can have permission to!"

Hermione bit down on her bottom lip, realizing it would be hard to convince Professor McGonagall. Still she was confident that if she explained her reasons, she would be allowed. "But Professor McGonagall, I have an entirely good reason for not wanting to be part of the feast!"

"Then state your reasons, Miss Granger." Professor McGonagall levelled a blazing gaze at Hermione, watching her with hawk-like scrutiny.

"Harry Black's mother was killed on Halloween! He doesn't want to be part of the feast this year because of that! He needs a friend to be with him while he's grieving! I need to be there for him!" Hermione pleaded, hoping it would make the professor understand why she needed her permission.

Professor McGonagall sighed, her eyes turning sympathetic. "Be that as it may, Miss Granger, I cannot give you two leeway despite the circumstances."

Hermione was gobsmacked! Professor McGonagall was being unfair! Her temper rising, the young witch continued her push for her goal. "But Professor Snape already gave Harry permission!"

"That is because Mister Black is part of Professor Snape's House. How he runs the affairs of his House is of no concern of mine, Miss Granger. Good of Mister Black to obtain his Head of House's permission, but you will not have mine."

"That is unfair, professor! Harry needs me! I'm his best friend!"

Professor McGonagall glared sternly at Hermione. "Miss Granger, may I remind you that I am your Head of House and the Deputy Headmistress. I will not put up with that tone."

Realising she had raised her voice against an authority figure, Hermione quietened, more to control herself than to avoid being scolded.

"I sympathize with you dearly," the professor said, smiling sympathetically at her despite the circumstances. "However, there are rules that must be followed. You are just a friend of the boy, not a family member. I cannot give you permission. I hope you can understand that. You are dismissed."

Nodding sulkily, Hermione slipped from the chair and silently left the office, not even bothering to bid a courteous farewell. Her mind swirled with disappointment. She had failed Harry. Though she managed to get his end to be free from the feast, she failed at hers. Hermione promised that she would be there for Harry tonight and now because of _rules_ she was not allowed to!

Professor McGonagall was being unfair! She didn't understand how Harry needed her. They were best friends since childhood! They always had each other's backs no matter what! Hermione didn't know what her life may have been like without Harry. If it wasn't for him, then she probably would have been bullied because of her vast intellect or worse!

_Why couldn't she just give me permission! _Hermione shouted over and over again in her mind. With a sigh, she knew she had to tell Harry the bad news. That was definitely something she was not looking forward to. Hermione reached into her pocket and rubbed her thumb against the smooth metal of Harry's birthday gift. How could she have gone and disappointed Harry?

Morosely, Hermione dragged her feet to the library where she agreed to meet with Harry. At the very least, she was able to give Harry the night to himself. He didn't have to go thanks to her. Hermione quickly climbed the staircase and made it to the library entrance. She was surprised to find Harry already waiting for her at the door.

Harry waved at her, greeting her with a warm smile. "Hey Hermione, how was your day?"

She couldn't bear to look at him in the eye, and turned her head away to look at him, opting to hide her peculiar behaviour by rummaging through her bag and pretending to look for a book. "It was fine," Hermione said thickly. "We learned a new spell in Charms."

"I'm sure you managed to master it already I bet," he commented with a chuckle.

Hermione chuckled—nervously at that. "Of course, Harry! It is me, after all!"

"Hermione... is something wrong?"

Steeling her resolve, Hermione finally looked up and found Harry appearing worried. The cool mask he typically adopted was gone, revealing the Harry she had always known. It always seemed like he was different person now that they were in Hogwarts.

"No, nothing is wrong!" Hermione forced a smile.

Harry didn't look like he believed her, but he didn't push it. Instead he said, "Okay. I really can't thank you enough, Hermione. Today was hard. I couldn't stop thinking about my mother. Knowing that you're here with me is more than enough to make me feel better."

"Oh Harry!" she threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. "I'll always be here for you. You're my best friend!"

Hermione decided then that she couldn't care less if she had Professor McGonagall's permission or not. She was going to stay with Harry throughout the feast, forgetting about all the consequences. Hopefully, her decision wouldn't see her killed—or worse, expelled!

* * *

><p>After spending so much time in the library with Hermione, Harry knew the schedule of Madam Pince, the strict librarian, very well through dedicated observation. Every day, the old woman would leave the library to have dinner, spending half an hour eating before she returned. When she came back, she would head straight back to her station, only bothering to check up on the students if they were being too loud.<p>

Today, he and Hermione were using his knowledge to avoid the irritable-looking woman. The two of them took refuge in one of the hidden nooks of the library, commandeering a small table for them to use. It was comfortable and intimate, more than comfortable enough for Harry and Hermione. It was also far enough that they could have an easy conversation without reprisal from the unpopular librarian.

Harry, however, couldn't help but notice how fidgety Hermione was today. She wasn't like that this morning, having been her typical sunny self. To the normal observer, Hermione didn't appear strange at all. She still talked animatedly about her homework, her favourite topics, or whatever else came to mind. But Harry was her best friend and had the fortunate training of looking at people (courtesy of his businessman uncle, Vernon). Hermione was constantly biting down on her bottom lip—an action reserved when something was bothering her.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, keeping the worry out of his voice.

Hermione looked up sharply from the book she was holding, and nodded fiercely. "I'm fine, Harry. I should be the one asking you that."

He eyed her curiously, taking notice of her shifting eyes as they fell on the pocket watch he gave her for her birthday. The silver gleamed in the light. Hermione could not thank him enough for it when he had given it to her and always tried to find some excuse to have it out. Harry glanced at the time as well. It was ten after when the feast should have began.

"I'll be alright, Hermione. I haven't even thought of anything dour since we came here," Harry replied to Hermione honestly. Truthfully, he was sad when he thought of his mother, but the presence of his friend served as a reminder that he was not alone, significantly cheering him up.

Hermione beamed. "That's good."

He couldn't take it anymore. Harry knew Hermione was hiding something. A part of him felt a little guilty and hypocritical for wanting to know when he himself had something to hide—the Room—as well, but his concern for Hermione outweighed it.

Setting his quill down, Harry asked, "Can you please tell me what's making you so fidgety? I haven't seen you act this way since you ate all that candy last June after your mother told you not to."

She blushed, being reminded of the memory. Her parents were dentists, and they had a habit of not allowing their daughter to have sweets. Harry, of course, knew Hermione indulged on candy every now and then. The very last time was on the Hogwarts Express when they tried out the candy in this world for the first time.

Harry watched as Hermione's lips thinned. She closed her eyes. Then she let out a longwinded sigh. He smiled; he had her. Hermione glanced at him with an expression that read guilt all over it. A shy smile formed, and she put her book down.

"Umm, promise you won't get angry," she began, acting nervous. Harry nodded, promising he wouldn't. "You see, Harry, I managed to get permission from Professor Snape to let you not attend the feast tonight."

"Okay," he said, frowning. Where was the harm in that? Despite his appearance and his bias against Gryffindor, Professor Snape was a fair man from what Harry observed.

"But," Hermione paused, now hesitating to meet his eyes. "When I went to see Professor McGonagall, I couldn't get her to give _me _permission."

Realisation dawned on Harry.

"It's alright though, Harry. I'm sure Professor McGonagall wouldn't even notice. I mean, there are more than enough people in the Gryffindor table to even remember me. After all, she has the Weasley twins to be concerned about and..."

As Hermione rambled, Harry was completely silent. He started to pack up his belongings, placing his books in his bad, and rolling up the pieces of parchment he had laid out. Fortunately, he didn't take out the quills and ink just yet. Honestly, why did they even need quills and ink? A pen would have just been fine. Perhaps that's something to get later on.

"Harry, are you listening to me? Why are you putting away all your things?" Hermione asked impatiently.

Harry stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He turned to look at Hermione, calmly stating, "I'm going back to the feast."

Surprised, Hermione stood up abruptly. "Why? I thought you wouldn't be comfortable attending!

"I won't be if I go, but what kind of friend am I if I knew you were going to be in trouble if you missed it?" Harry arched an eyebrow at her, a disapproving look on his face. "Hermione, I would love more than anything to spend time with you tonight, but you know how strict Professor McGonagall can be. I'm not going to have you risk incurring her wrath."

"Harry, I'll be fine! It was my decision to have gone about this without her consent; stop treating me like a child!" she argued vehemently.

"I know you can, but you fail to see that you could get in big trouble for this, Hermione!" he nearly shouted.

Hermione shook her head. "It will be fine! She will understand!"

Harry ran his fingers through his hair frustrated. He could not believe how stubborn Hermione could—actually, he could believe it. Nevertheless, he would stand by his opinion. Hermione was making a grave mistake for blatantly ignoring Professor McGonagall's ruling.

Despite Hermione's protest, she followed after him as he left the library. She glared daggers at him, upset at his adamant reasoning. Harry knew that she didn't mean to be abrasive, but she tended to act that way whenever she lost at something. She would get over it soon enough.

"If we hurry, we'll only be a little late. I doubt we would get in too much trouble if we arrive twenty minutes after it started," Harry said, trying to make light conversation.

Hermione ignored him, continuing her stay a few paces behind him as they walked. Harry frowned, but once again reminded himself that her temper would come down again by tomorrow morning. Unless he had done something truly heinous, Hermione tended to never hold a long grudge against him.

Still, Harry hated it when Hermione was angry with him. "Hermione, I'm doing this for your own good. You could get in trouble with Professor McGonagall. She would kill you if she found out you disobeyed her, or worse, expel you!"

His bushy-haired best friend sighed, but continued to glare at Harry. Putting her hands on her hips as she always does whenever she was about to make a point, she said, "Harry, I am not a little girl that needs hold hands all the time! I can make my own decisions and I was the one to decide to risk the consequences."

_Thud._

"Would you stop being so stubborn! I'm doing this for your sake!" he argued back, slowly losing his patience. Why couldn't Hermione just see he was doing all this for her?

"_My_ sake? If you were doing this for my sake, then you wouldn't be taking me back to the feast! You're practically throwing me to the lion's den! Professor McGonagall would know I skipped and I would get in trouble regardless. She may not even know I'm not there!"

_Thud._

As they walked to the Grand Staircase, they continued to argue incessantly, never backing down from their position. It got to a point that Hermione refused to follow him any further, leaving them facing one another in the corridor as they had their spat.

"Do I need to remind you who nearly burnt down the classroom trying to boil water?" Harry made his retort.

Hermione blushed, narrowing her eyes fiercely at him. "You and I now both know that was accidental magic caused by my frustration. Don't exaggerate my inability to cook!"

_Thud._

"What is that blasted noise?" Harry cursed irritably. Ignoring the odd sound, he continued, I'm just saying you can be quite reckless sometimes! If I hadn't been there watching out for you, who knows what would have happened to you in school!"

His best friend suddenly paled and her mouth hung open in silent shock.

Upon seeing her expression, guilt tore Harry up inside. They bickered before, but he had never seen react like this before! "Oh, I'm so sorry Hermione, I—"

She shook her head. "H-h-harry, l-look b-b-behind you," she squeaked.

He frowned and turned around, wondering what caught her attention. His eyes widened, and he gasped. Standing in the middle of the hallway just metres away from them was a behemoth of a thing. As he breathed in the air, Harry nearly choked on the stench that he concluded was coming off of whatever it was in front of them. Its grotesque appearance was nauseating. However, beside its size, the scary thing about it was the huge club it was dragging with its hand.

They had learned about this creature in class: it was a troll.

Harry and Hermione were rooted to their spot, more scared than anything else. Many questions were being raised in Harry's mind: Why was a troll here? How did it get in? Where did it come from? When did it arrive? Who was responsible for this?

But despite the fear, Harry coped with a small ounce of humour. He remembered the promise he made to Hermione's father before he and Hermione entered Platform 9 ¾, and groaned in his mind. If only he hadn't made that silly promise, then perhaps none of this would have happened.

_Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy,_ Harry wryly thought.

It was up to Harry to get him and Hermione out of this mess. With what he knew about trolls, they were known for their immense stupidity and prodigious strength. Unfortunately, their behaviour consisted of being dangerously violent and aggressive backed up with unpredictability. In short, Harry had no idea what to expect from this troll. It could simply ignore them or it could attack them. Whatever the case, Harry knew they had to get away from the troll and fast.

Nudging Hermione stealthily, he gently clasped his hand around hers and slowly pulled her away. She turned to look at him, panic in her eyes, but a gentle look from him calmed her down enough to understand his actions. Hermione gave him a resolute nod despite tears beginning to form in her eyes. They quietly began stepping away from the troll whom was comfortable to just stand there oafishly (reminding him of Crabbe of Goyle). If they could just make it to the stairs without the troll's attention, they could hurry to the Great Hall and inform the teachers.

They were nearly halfway towards the Grand Staircase when the troll grunted. Harry and Hermione stopped, turning to look at the troll. It grunted again. And it grunted some more. Then it began howling angrily and began waving its club as if it was just a light stick. It cast its gaze onto them, lapping its lips and roared.

One other thing to know about trolls: they have a taste for human flesh, and they enjoy taking it raw and are not fussy about where they find it.

"RUN!"

Harry wasn't sure if he had shouted that or if it had been Hermione who did, but it didn't matter. He bolted from where he was standing towards the direction of the stairwell. Hermione was by his side, running just as fast and never letting go of his hand. They could feel the floor shake beneath them as the troll gave chase. Though it was slow because of stature, its long legs gave it a long stride that was capable of outpacing an eleven-year-old boy and twelve-year-old girl.

The two of them sprinted down the steps, trying to shake the pursuing troll. Harry looked behind him and found the troll at the top of the stairs, its eyes trained on them. Though it was large, the Grand Staircase was able to accommodate its mammoth size. However, Harry was sure that despite it being magical, it could not handle the being's weight. As the troll chased them, the staircase shook, nearly throwing Harry and Hermione off-balance with each step. It was a terrifying scene for the moving portraits that were witnessing it. Harry could hear their gasps and cries as they ran by.

"Hermione! Look there! The stairs are about to change! If we get on it, we can strand the troll!" Harry shouted as he pointed in the direction of the upcoming platform.

Hermione nodded. "Let's do it, Harry!"

Before they could reach the moving platform, it had already begun moving. However, Harry would not be stranded with the troll. He was going to protect both himself and Hermione. He urged Hermione to run faster and the two of them jumped with all the strength they could muster. The two of them landed in a pile with Hermione on top of Harry.

"We did it!" Hermione cried out in relief. She stood up, taking the time to help Harry up as well.

Unfortunately, celebrations had to wait. As Harry regained his bearing, his eyes caught sight of the troll suddenly leapt off from the previous staircase towards theirs. Hermione, whose back was turned to the troll, was unaware of what it was about to do. Reacting quickly, Harry wrapped himself around Hermione and pulled away, falling down a few steps as the troll grabbed hold of the banister.

Harry hoped that the staircase would break under the weight of the troll and send it plummeting to its death, but Rowena Ravenclaw was far too clever for that. Though the staircase shook, it held. Harry could do nothing but watch in horror as the troll climbed the banister and stood on the steps. It even had its giant club still. The troll was truly tenacious in its efforts to chase them.

Harry and Hermione stood before the troll, out of breath. _Come on, Harry, think! How do you get out of this? _He pressured himself, trying to come up with some way to escape alive. He looked behind them and saw that the stairs led to the second floor, but they wouldn't be able to outrun the troll. It was far too close to them now.

"Harry," Hermione gently whispered his name, making him look at her. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life, Hermione," was the automatic reply.

This time, Hermione took hold of him and they began running down the stairs once more. Harry thought it was a futile effort, believing that the troll would catch up to them soon. The troll grunted and gave chase once again, but raised its club and impatiently began smashing it about. They were able to get a few paces ahead of the troll, but it would not be enough.

Suddenly, the two of them stopped, and Harry turned to look at Hermione curiously. But before he could pose the question, Hermione grabbed him and started running again, this time _towards_ the troll.

"ARE YOU MAD, HERMIONE?!" Harry shouted, losing his typical calm.

Hermione merely smirked and continued pulling him forward. Somehow they were able to dodge its massive club and go through the troll by running underneath its legs. For once in his life, Harry was thankful he was smaller than most boys his age. They continued to sprint up the staircase before they finally reached the platform on the third floor where it was then that Harry turned around to see what happened to the troll.

To his surprise, the troll was trying to turn around in mid-stride to get them, but it was far too clumsy and bulky to do it properly. Its legs crossed one another in an effort to turn, but the momentum of running downstairs caught up to it. It was unable to stop properly and instead of turning, it fell. Harry watched as the troll toppled over and began its painful descent downwards, shaking the staircase it did.

Finally, the troll stopped on the second floor landing with a resounding crack. Harry could not help but wince upon hearing the sound. He had heard it once before when Steven Lewinski broke one of his legs when he fell from the tree in the park two summers ago.

Harry watched as the troll tried to get up but was unable to on account of its broken left leg. Due to the fall, it was now misshapen with what looked to be a broken bone sticking out. But despite the excruciating pain it may have had, the troll persisted on trying to stand up. It was almost pitiable. Almost.

"It was all just a matter of physics and utilising what we know of the troll," Hermione suddenly said. "I took a chance and it worked..."

"Yes. I couldn't be happier." He placed an arm around her and pulled her close, giving Hermione a one-arm hug. "You're brilliant, Hermione."

The pair smiled at one another, both thankful that it was over. There was absolutely no way the troll could give chase to them now. Harry glanced over at the troll, frowning as he watched it still attempt to stand up. It continued to howl, but it was more out of pain than anything else. He wished it would stop that noisy racket. Almost immediately, his wish was granted.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

The troll's club which had been dropped when it fell suddenly began to ascend into the air. The spell lifted the heavy club over the troll's head, the troll being unaware of what was happening. Suddenly the spell ended and the club fell, impacting upon the troll's head. The howling stopped. The troll collapsed, topping over forward. Someone had knocked it out.

"Who did that?" Hermione asked, fidgeting slightly. Harry was certain she wanted to go over to see who had cast the spell, but didn't want to risk being near the troll if it suddenly woke up.

"I did it!" Harry recognised that voice. "I knocked out a troll!"

"_Henry Potter?_" Hermione shrieked, making Harry wince from the shrillness of her tone.

Henry soon walked into view, walking up from the staircase leading to the first floor. His wand was out, and he was grinning from ear to ear. Harry wasn't exactly sure why his brother had arrived, but he wasn't complaining that he made the troll unconscious. The Boy Who Lived looked around his surroundings and spotted the two of them. Harry watched as he scowled upon seeing him, but smiled as he saw Hermione. The Gryffindor immediately rushed over to them.

"Granger, I'm so glad you're alright!" he shouted excitedly. "I couldn't find you at the feast! Then when Professor Quirrell came in talking how a troll escaped in the dungeons, I came looking for you to make sure you're alright! What are you doing with Black?"

Harry was stunned into silence! He gazed at his brother with newfound respect. He couldn't believe that he had been worried for Hermione enough to risk his life to find her, fully knowing that a dangerous troll was on castle grounds. Foolish as it may have been to set out alone, Harry understood the sentiment quite well. Perhaps his brother was not as pompous and arrogant as he liked to believe.

"We didn't need your help," Hermione stated resolutely, ignoring his question about Harry. "Harry and I broke his leg, he was fully incapable of moving. You didn't need to knock out the stupid thing! Speaking of stupidity, where are Weasley and Longbottom?"

Henry beamed. "When I saw the troll, I told them to go get the professors! They'll be here soon!"

Just as Henry had said, the professors soon arrived. Professor McGonagall was rushing up the staircase Henry came from followed by Professor Snape, who looked worse for wear, then Quirrell about ready to faint, with Ron and Neville bringing up the rear.

Professor Snape bent over the troll, studying it. Professor McGonagall soon spotted Harry, Hermione, and Henry, and immediately rushed over to them. To say she appeared livid would be an understatement. Never before had Harry seen her look so angry. Her lips were white, and her eyes were blazing with a cold fury.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" asked Professor McGonagall icily. "You're lucky you weren't killed! Why aren't you in your dormitory?" Her attention turned to Hermione. "As for you, Miss Granger, it appears to me that you hadn't obeyed my ruling from earlier. Had I not said you were not allowed to skip the feast? Were you roaming the halls with Black here?"

Professor Snape gave Harry a curious looking, silently asking him how he had gotten into the mess he was in.

Before Hermione could answer Professor McGonagall, Henry butted into interrogation, "Granger was at the feast, Professor! We were sitting close to each other. When we were being escorted to the tower, I got distracted by a few paintings and Hermione followed after me to scold me again!"

Once again, Harry was stunned into silence! Henry was trying to help him and Hermione?

"Though, I don't know how Black got here. If you ask me, I bet it was him that let the troll in!"

Well, it seemed Henry was only trying to help Hermione.

"I did not," Harry refuted calmly. "I was just in the library because I had been excused by Professor Snape. I soon got bored and decided to go back to the dorms when I came across Hermione, Henry, and his friends. Then the troll found us."

Professor McGonagall's lips thinned. "Is this true, Miss Granger?"

Hermione frowned, and nodded. "What Potter and Harry each said are true."

"Well, in that case..." said the Deputy Headmistress, "I am glad the three of you are alright. You must have gone through such an ordeal. You three were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll and knocked—"

"Killed." A voice from behind said. "The troll is dead. These first years killed a mountain troll. I'm impressed."

Professor McGonagall glared at the potions professor. Whatever she had been about to say earlier was now lost. Turning back to the first years, she said, "Return to your dorms at once. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. Five points to you three as well."

Henry rejoined his two friends, and looked over at Hermione expectantly. Harry could tell Hermione loathed to leave him behind, but knew she had to lest Professor McGonagall believes their story wasn't true. Hermione fell into Harry's arms and gave him a crushing hug. She pecked his cheek and smiled at him one last time before she followed after Henry and his friends.

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to find Professor Snape patting him. "Come along, Black. I'll escort you back to the common room. There will be some food there as well."

As the student and teacher walked together back to the Slytherin dungeons, Harry wondered for what purpose Professor Snape had left the other teachers to clean up the troll. It was unnecessary for Harry to be chaperoned back to the dorms.

"I'm impressed, Black. I would not have believed you capable of killing a troll if I had not seen it with my own eyes." Professor Snape didn't even turn to address him. "You truly have your mother's cleverness."

"It wasn't me," Harry admitted softly.

"Don't tell me it was that brat!" Professor Snape spat at the thought of Henry.

Harry shook his head. "No. It was Hermione. She was the one that made the troll fall down the stairs and broke its legs."

"I see." He calmed down. "Then it seems she is the cleverer one of the two of you."

Then once again, Harry caught the forlorn tone in his Head of House's voice that he hadn't heard since their conversation after the first Potions class, but his mind was too tired to think much of it. He just wanted to go to bed and rest. Hopefully, Tracey or Greengrass saved him some pumpkin pie.


End file.
